


Paint Your Picture (All Night Long)

by EspadaIV, JKRobertson



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist AU, Awkward Romance, Collaboration, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Fuck Boys, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lemon, Pervertedness, References to Addiction, Sexual Tension, Smut, Universe Alteration, douche bags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 180,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspadaIV/pseuds/EspadaIV, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKRobertson/pseuds/JKRobertson
Summary: He painted her while she stood in that room in Las Noches. Two years later, Ulquiorra Cifer is given a second chance at life. It's not how he imagined it because he finds himself inhabiting the body of a human whose previous soul screwed him up.Fast forward four years later, Orihime stumbles upon two paintings hanging in an art gallery that looks eerily like her. Demanding to see this C. Murcielago, she’s surprised to find her former captor alive. The only thing was that he was human and had feelings.They have history and there are things left unsaid between them. Can Ulquiorra convince Orihime that he’s human enough?





	1. The Bat Has Left the Belfry

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. We do not own Bleach nor the characters used. They belong to their respective owners. Please feel free to comment or leave a review. We reply to comments! Kudos are awesome too. Thank you for reading!
> 
> Uh hi... Again... EIV here with JKR (J: HI!!!!!). This fic was inspired by a comic we both saw on Tumblr. We both wanted to show it to each other for a possible plot bunny before we came up with LLTAS (E: Short story, my ass!) but couldn't find it. Such is life. This was also inspired by a piece of art I, EIV, did titled, _Tormenta De Fuck Boy_. So, we combined Fuck boy!Ulq with artist, college, modeling andddddd canon divergent AUs. You shake up the jar and you got one hot fic. :) At least we think so. Since this is Canon Divergent, we smudged the details of canon a bit, the deviation happens during the TYBW.
> 
> There were a bunch of other factors that went into this fic and we won't bother you with them. Just know you're in for another wild and smutty ride. If you're asking what happened with LLTAS, JKR and I are done writing it. Y'all gotta wait until we post.
> 
> [EspadaIV's Tumblr](http://espada-iv.tumblr.com/)  
> [JKRobertson's Tumblr](https://jkrobertson.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [ULQUIHIME DISCORD](https://discord.gg/JbdPDcb)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [THE WOMAN AND THE MOON PAINTING](https://www.deviantart.com/espadaiv/art/The-Woman-and-The-Moon-761063691)

 

He'd gone to the World of the Living. He'd stolen the supplies he needed. He would watch her for days and days as they passed by. It had been a blink of an eye for him, but Ulquiorra remembered the madness overtaking him.

 

The brushes. The canvases. The paint. The sharp smell of brush cleaner. The mess he'd made. He was rather good at hiding things. He was able to hide his curiosity about the woman. He was able to mask the desire he felt for her. He masked it all with anger.

 

Once the painting was done, he stashed it away in the World of the Living. Somewhere that no one would find it. He had signed the corner of it C. Murcielago. It wasn't much. It just showed a sparsely furnished room in the palace of Las Noches. It had a redhead girl who stared up at a crescent moon behind a caged window. He wanted something to remember her by. He needed something to remember her.

 

He hadn't anticipated on leaving this world so soon. On top of that dome, he faded away, reaching out for her. He didn't know how she felt. He didn't know what she thought, but Ulquiorra realized one thing. This woman had awakened his heart.

 

That was his only saving grace as he felt light come into his soul. He'd been redeemed from an eternity of agony in hell.

 

***

 

The music and drink made everything seem hazy. She was surrounded by taller, sweatier bodies undulating to the same rhythm. She closed her eyes and got lost in it as well.

 

The beat changed. The mood shifted. A darker tone overtook the atmosphere, and for a brief moment, the crowd parted. Her eyes opened and time stopped.

 

Finally, a desperate urge from her body to breathe overpowered her shock.

 

"Uryu, did you see-"

 

"Speak up, bitch! I can't hear you."

 

She scoffed. "URYU, DID YOU SEE WHAT I JUST SAW?"

 

"What do you think you see?" he asked, grinding into her backside to the music.

 

She rolled her eyes. "Over _there,"_ she said, turning to make eye contact and darting her eyes toward the area in question. She did not want to be obvious in pointing out the man seated in the booth facing the dancefloor.

 

Uryu looked. He displayed a flash of recognition and shuddered a bit. "Whoa, spooky. Don't worry about it, Boo, he's fuckin' dead. Anyway did you see that twink by the door..."

 

Orihime wasn't listening anymore and took no comfort in his words. She watched the pale, long-haired man in the booth until he left the area a few minutes later. It was uncanny. He _had_ died. That was true. Why then did it feel like the earth had turned on its axis and dropped her into Bizarroland?

 

It had to be Bizarroland, she thought, because that was, without a doubt, Ulquiorra Cifer.

 

***

 

It was 7:24 am in Tokyo, Japan. A man stood in front of a huge canvas that sat against one wall of his loft apartment. He'd woken out of a dead sleep from a dream that left him clawing for breath and panting. It was always the same thing.

 

Darkness and then too-loud noises; too-bright light. He'd been in so much pain and then nothing. That was when he usually woke up, panicking. That's how he returned to the world of the living again. He found himself lying in a puddle of vomit with various objects surrounding him. Something that looked like Szayel's experimental drug containers and small baggies littered the floor.

 

What the hell had happened?

 

He had died.

 

Hadn't he?

 

Ulquiorra sat up groaning, feeling the bile rise in his throat. What the hell happened? Why was he here? This place was dirty. It smelled horrible. He moved his arm and pain lanced through it. He looked down to see a needle sticking out of it; the plunger depressed all the way down.

 

Pain and panic washed over him, like an endless ebbing at his nerves and senses. What was going on?

 

A thought occurred to him that made him start to panic even more. Was it possible for souls to overtake a body? Could they inhabit another body? This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to go to hell. He was an Espada. There was a special place reserved for him.

 

Looking down at his hands, he watched himself yank the thing out of his skin. How had something like that pierced his Hierro? He brought it up to his face then upon examination; he threw it to the side.

 

Unless… Was he human?

 

Eyes crept back down to see red blood trickle from the wound.

 

Ulquiorra swallowed, once more sour bile and dread crawled up his throat. Hollow blood was dark red. When he was in his different release forms, his blood was black.

 

The blood that was on his arm was bright fucking red. It was the color of Yammy's Cero.

 

He remembered stumbling out of that bathroom, confused as to where he was but not who he was. He was Ulquiorra Cifer; former Hollow, Arrancar, and the fourth Espada. He was now human. _He was human_.

 

He felt strange as he navigated his way through the rundown building. He found out in short order that he was in the crappy part of the red light district of Tokyo. It was December first. He had just exited from a known drug haven.

 

How was this possible?

 

He didn't know the answers. He couldn't ask the questions that were swirling around in his mind. Ulquiorra did the only thing he could think of, which meant taking the train to Karakura. He walked and asked where he could find the Urahara Shoten. Most people shook their heads and waved him off. Others pointed him in the right direction.

 

Those who pointed him in the correct direction probably had a blip of spiritual pressure. He couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary.

 

Tessai had taken one look at him and shook his head. "You're a human, and you found this place?"

 

Ulquiorra had nodded. "Is Urahara Kisuke present? Is he here?"

 

The tall man had held his chin like he was thinking. It didn't take long for Ulquiorra to detect the sounds of someone walking with a cane down a hallway. A striped hat appeared in the doorway followed by the green outfit the man wore, but he did not have geta on his feet, just socks.

 

When the blond came into the shop, the man looked horrified. "What are you-"

 

"I need help. I need answers." He was not a threat. If he could not use Cero, Sonido, or Pesquisa then how the hell was he to have an advantage over anyone?

 

And he'd gotten his answers, but Urahara didn't offer much help. He'd mumbled and printed off a bunch of information for Ulquiorra. The man was blind in one eye with thick scars running down his face and limbs. He hobbled to and fro. There wasn't much he could do.

 

He had tried asking Urahara about _her_ and the substitute shinigami. The shopkeeper had shaken his head and refused to entertain those questions. He waved them off, saying it didn't matter. This behavior had worried Ulquiorra, but he said nothing else.

 

It had been four years since that day when he woke up inside of a nasty bathroom, and he had taken that train trip. Ulquiorra had done well for himself in that time. He found the canvas he had painted. It was still where he put it.

 

He went back to that drug den and up to the room that everyone said was his. He cleared the space out; cleaned up it. He bought himself paints, pencils, stretched canvases, and brushes. He began to create. It was disjointed. It was rushed. His art conveyed his panic of those first few weeks. It wasn't fun trying to become human when all he knew was the life of a regretful spirit.

 

In the first spurt of creativity, he'd made eight different paintings. Two of the canvases showed a redheaded girl, the one that he remembered. The one that he had given his heart to. He submitted them to local art galleries and finally snagged himself a spot in an art show. The ones of the redhead sold quickly, and by the time the show had run its course, Ulquiorra had sold each painting.

 

He moved out of the drug house. He got himself an apartment on the top floor above a pub. The place was in Koenji, but it was clean. There were no other drug addicts that lived in the building. There were no bugs. He could lock his door and knew that there would be no one trying to break into the place.

 

The first year was his hardest. Inspiration came in waves and flurries of activity; then there were lulls which he hated because all he did was stare at a blank slate that was begging for color and images.

 

The second year he was starting to become recognizable, at least his paintings were. The Woman and the Moon was always shown with his other work but never sold. He could not bear to give up the best image he had of Inoue Orihime. It was the one Ulquiorra he had taken most pride in. It was the one he coveted the most.

 

The third year he was in demand. He got an agent to represent him. He painted non-stop, it seemed like. He moved into a different apartment. This one had a loft and skylights. It was the perfect place for him. It took up an entire floor in a narrow building. He hadn't minded the walk up twelve flights of stairs. He was used to being up high.

 

The neighbors that lived below him were other artistic folks; writer, dancer, novelist, cartoonist, a vlogger, manga artist and so forth. Some were Japanese. Others were from different countries which made him ponder other things. If he could, would he leave Japan?

 

Probably not.

 

This was the last known location of Inoue.

 

The fourth-year had been the best so far. He had made money. He had everything he could want and still lived comfortably. He could go out with the few friends he had and have a goodnice time. They went clubbing. They had dinners. They talked over coffee. He watched everyone.

 

One such Friday night they were out, and he thought he saw someone he recognized, but it was impossible. Plenty of women had that same reddish-brown hair. He knew he could use the computer in his apartment or his phone and pull up the search results.

 

Her hair wasn't as unique as he once thought. Inoue was not unique. She wasn't some unicorn that he once thought she was standing in that room. She was a woman, and he had plenty of those at his beck and call. As he looked across the club and over the sea of drunken bodies, he stared at that woman and the guy who was currently groping her ass.

 

It wasn't anyone.

 

It was just some anonymous woman who looked like her. When he couldn't take watching the lookalike anymore, Ulquiorra decided to find a different fake redhead to take home that night. The drunken sex was the same mundane thing as always. Their cries meant nothing to him. They were just bodies.

 

The encounters he had with the women that briefly flirted with his life were all the same. It was fucking them and then showing them to the door. He did not need anyone permanent. He didn't care that he got scalding texts detailing how he was a "fuck boy" or a douchebag because he would not return calls or respond to texts, leaving the women's messages unread.

 

But those dreams he constantly had haunted him. They tormented him with nightmares that he couldn't shake at times. This morning was one of those times.

 

Panting, he climbed down the ladder and went to the bathroom, taking a shower to wash the sweat from his body. It still felt strange. This body. The human he inhabited looked like him with pale skin, black hair, and flat green eyes with reptilian pupils. The voice sounded like his with a mono, almost bored tone. The brain worked in the same calculating and detail-oriented manner. He was a perfectionist, and it showed in his work. He could feel emotion. He was irrational at times. The painting frenzies could attest to this. His introverted moods spoke loudly at times.

 

After the shower, he stepped out of the bathroom and looked at the painting that hung above his desk.

 

 _The Woman and the Moon_.

 

Every time he woke up, he greeted the painting as if it were his lover. "Good morning, Woman. You're looking lovely as usual." or "Good evening, Woman. Did you do anything today? No? You just stood there looking forever up at that static sky?"

 

Sometimes he thought he was going insane.

 

That could be the case because he would stand there for a moment before going to the galley kitchen to grab something to eat or drink. It was like he almost expected her to reply to him.

 

At that moment, which was now 7:26 am, Ulquiorra had his back to his most famous piece and was staring at a large blank canvas. He had an art showcase to get ready for in a little over two months. He would display the woman's painting along with whatever else he managed to come up with.

 

With a sigh, Ulquiorra picked up his paint pallet and a brush and dipped it into the white. The dream he had during the previous hours had been of Hueco Mundo; its desolate landscape with his helmet buried in the sand. He had never had it ripped off. The mask fragment of his days as an Espada could never be removed. It was fused to his skull. But there, on the canvas, it laid on a white sand dune under a black sky and a white moon. Sometimes he had boggled at the power within him while he lived as a hollow. Had he just strived towards greatness, he wouldn't have stuck around Las Noches. He would have gone and fought in the Winter War.

 

Most art critics said his art was melancholy. It was morose. It was sad. Ulquiorra didn't think it was any of that but what did these people know? They were merely judging who he was as a person by that with which they were presented.

 

Often times if he went to his shows, he wore dark clothing or a suit. He applied eyeliner and lined his upper lip with black lipstick. He felt more like himself when he did this. People would comment on his brightly colored eyes and the strange slit-like pupils. His reply was always the same when people asked about his eyes.

 

"Contacts."

 

They would nod, and then the reviews would pour in about the freakish artist who looked like he had come from someone's nightmare.

 

Why should he be the only one who dealt with the dreams?

 

He painted many renditions of his crystal tree. This time a bat hung from the branches. It was almost like the bat that he had tattooed on his left forearm, near his wrist. He'd celebrated his first sold painting with a tattoo and continued the tradition with every other one that left his possession. He had quite the collection of disjointed ink to mar his body.

 

It was better than shoving drugs into his mouth and veins as the previous occupant of this body had done.

 

Hours went by and finally, Ulquiorra collapsed into his computer chair, exhausted. He'd gotten three out of the ten paintings done. Ulquiorra needed to recharge; he needed more inspiration. He'd eat and get some coffee. Perhaps go for a walk along the streets of his neighborhood. Maybe he would visit one of the other areas of Tokyo. Sometimes it was good to get out of his comfort zone, and it had been a while since he'd gone on an adventure.

 

He found himself walking the streets of Shinjuku. He went into Book Off, a popular second-hand media place, but didn't see anything of interest in there. He found himself in a camera store, talking to the salespeople about camera lenses. Ever since he became an artist, photography had always interested him. He liked using a camera to watch people out and about engaging in their daily lives.

 

It kept the monotony bearable some days.

 

He left that store and continued to walk around watching people as they moved. He had to wonder as he navigated the sidewalk if his nightmare had been triggered by the redhead he had seen recently. He couldn't remember certain details of her; he could barely tell what color eyes she had or how her lips looked when he had made her cry. He couldn't even conjure the sound of her voice pleading with him to let her out of that room.

 

There was very little that he did know about her. Ulquiorra knew she had huge tits, a tiny waist, and rounded hips. He knew she had those hairpins. He knew her name and where she lived. He knew her birthday, and that part of her name meant princess. To him, she had always been more than a princess. Princess was still a lowly title for Orihime.

 

It was funny how when he thought about her his dick would pulse. Stupid humans and their ways. He still harbored feelings for the woman.

 

He would never tell anyone that. He would never say anything to anyone about his feelings. He wasn't a "sit around the campfire to join in with friends to sing songs" type of person. He was a "leave me the fuck alone and mind your damn business" type of guy. He didn't like when devices were shoved into his face so that people could get a sound byte. He didn't like it when people wrote down his words or quoted him.

 

"Murcielago-san! Murcielago-san!" they would say trying to get his attention so that he could give a statement or answer a question. He never let the press know his real name. He'd always signed his work "C. Murcielago," that way no one would be able to recognize him.

 

No one knew who he was. No one knew the great C. Murcielago was the former Espada, Ulquiorra Cifer. No one who had heard his name would know it was him.

 

He was so lost in thought that he bumped into someone and didn't apologize. He continued on his way past the fashion college and its museum. He had heard from one of the tenants in the building that there was a decent udon place around this area.

 

Ulquiorra didn't look back. He didn't care who he ran into; if he had given a shit about who he had run into he would have seen the person had stopped and turned around to stare at him. He would have seen messy ginger hair and a disbelieving stare. He would have seen a pair of dark amber eyes twitching and fists curling.

 

But the dark-haired man didn't. He minded his own damn business.

 

***

 

Ichigo had been in town only for a weekend, telling Orihime that he was bored and wanted to have a reunion with his old friends from Karakura. Orihime was long over her infatuation with the shinigami. He couldn't let go of his ego. He kept bringing up Soul Society. He kept finding excuses to go back. He had one foot in this world and the other in the next. It was exhausting. It was also unnecessary.

 

There had been relative peace and stability after the war. Yes, there were konsos to perform and minor hollows to slay, but it was nothing that any standard unseated shinigami couldn't handle. Ichigo had just refused to give up control. He didn't make plans for his future. And when he did, it was always to stay close to Karakura and keep up the shinigami act. It had soon become clear, to both Orihime and Uryu, that he was not keeping either of them in mind when he talked about his role in defending Karakura. His was a one-man show. Nevermind the fact that it had been Orihime who revived him from the dead and saved his skin on multiple occasions. Nevermind the fact that it had been _Uryu_ who defeated Yhwach.

 

They had both become disillusioned with their friend, who seemed dead set on living in the past, as far as they were concerned. Orihime had come to realize that even if the substitute shinigami ever came to recognize her fading feelings for him, they would never have the kind of loving, stable relationship she wanted and needed. It would always be Soul Society first. She didn't want to live like that.

 

So she had made other plans. The Karakura gang's group dynamic had changed when she announced that she wasn't going to stay in town after high school. Ichigo had gotten bitchy with her.

On the other hand, Uryu was totally excited. He and Orihime had conspired against his father, and both of them got accepted into Bunka Fashion College and left for Shibuya to study fashion design. It was a dream come true for Uryu. It was just something fun to do for Orihime. She found that she enjoyed it immensely she and could see herself doing it long-term, but it hadn't been a lifelong passion for her like it had been for Uryu.

 

She fell into the social scene gradually. Although she steered clear of many of the typical college vices, she often drank to excess and would go party all night on weekends. It was part of the expected lifestyle though; she _had_ to be seen. She _had_ to have her look admired. She was already developing a brand. So was Uryu.

 

In addition to school and socializing Orihime worked part time doing tailoring from home and modeling gigs as a side job. These jobs helped her further her connections, and Uryu often found a way to weasel himself into any connection she made, often to Orihime's detriment.

 

They competed against one another to see who would be the most attractive. Given their industry and social set, it was often Uryu who was more attractive to many people, especially in his newfound gay community. Orihime usually stayed close to him, afraid to fall into the arms of another man who didn't appreciate her. She was happy to go along and dance at gay clubs and get felt up by the cute half-naked guys there. When she went to clubs outside of Shinjuku 2-chome she still often found herself orbiting around the edges of any grouping of gay men that included Uryu. They made her feel safe and semi-welcome. For someone trying to keep her feelings drawn, that was a good deal for Orihime. She didn't want to open herself up only to have her dreams crushed again.

 

It hadn't just been what happened with Ichigo that made her so closed-off. Ever since her captivity in Hueco Mundo, there had been another being who had taken up residence in her heart. One who had died, but still lived in her dreams and nightmares. Sometimes it would just be reliving dull memories of him bringing food to her and threatening her to eat. Sometimes it would be his death. Sometimes his battle with Ichigo. She dreamt less often of Ulquiorra Cifer these days, but whenever she saw people holding hands, the old question, "what if?" resurfaced in her mind.

 

It didn't make her any less guarded, in fact, she had gained a reputation for being kind of a bitchy _fag hag_. That was no problem in her social circle, but it kept straight men away. Just as she preferred.

 

Things were not perfect in her new life, though. Orihime and Uryu had developed a uniquely fucked up relationship. They were roommates from the start and quickly became codependent to a large degree. They often slept together in the same bed, and sometimes, especially after excessive alcohol consumption, they would snuggle and sometimes kiss and touch inappropriately. It was never romantic though, and they never took it any further than that.

 

At the end of the day, the pair of fashion students were just two broken people who were fucking lonely and using each other for creature comfort and courage. Uryu was often overprotective and controlling of Orihime, afraid that one day she might find someone and leave him alone. That did nothing to stop him from being a big manwhore. He had lots of hookups but no long relationships, and he almost always came home at night regardless of his dalliances, sometimes just to make sure she hadn't left him. That's all he cared about, really.

 

Their friendship had long been suffering under the weight of their deep, parallel despair. Recently, both had recognized that their relationship was becoming toxic. They both knew that they desperately need to branch out. They didn't talk about it though.

 

Ichigo coming for an uninvited visit wasn't exactly helping things. He had told Uryu he was in town for a seminar. Uryu seemed surprised to learn he was still going along with his father's insistence on attending medical school. Ichigo asked if he could crash with them. Uryu reluctantly agreed. He didn't tell Orihime. He knew she would refuse.

 

Uryu was curious to see how Ichigo had changed. It had been nearly two years since he had seen him. Now that he was secure in his sexuality, Uryu was curious about Ichigo's. This is the same man who didn't bat an eyelash at Orihime's boob window dress during the last war. There was a decent chance Uryu would be getting laid, he thought.

 

He had been disappointed when Ichigo showed up with a duffel bag and more or less ignored him, walking up behind Orihime and asking, "Hey, lookin' good, fly girl. How'bout it?"

 

Orihime grabbed a coat. She grabbed her bag. "I'm going out," is all she said. She didn't come back until morning.


	2. Who Are You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroi Namida means Black Tears.

His show was in a couple of weeks, and he needed to do one last painting, but the inspiration stopped coming. It had been fleeting for weeks now. What the hell was Ulquiorra doing instead of trying to paint? Getting head from some woman while he sat in his computer chair, looking at that painting. He always felt guilty and didn't know why. Why should he be concerned about someone who hadn't given a damn about him?

 

She healed Kurosaki and somehow turned him into a monster. That woman had strange powers. She had reversed whatever that hack Tosen had done to Grimmjow's arm. He would have used the word witchcraft. Inoue Orihime was a witch. She had enabled the emotions and feelings in him which allowed him to have a heart. One that beat in time with others and could achieve affection.

 

He groaned letting his head fall back. He was feeling something, but it wasn't affection. After he came in the nameless woman's mouth who had been kneeling between his legs and promised to text her the next day, Ulquiorra stared at the canvas that was sitting on an easel near the bank of windows. What could he paint that he hadn't done before? In the four years, he had spent as a human; there were sixty paintings that he had done.

 

How many of them had been the same idea recycled? How many of them featured Hueco Mundo? How many of them had that crescent moon or those bars and that window? How many featured that girl he had kidnapped as an Arrancar? Some days he would like to run into Inoue. He would talk to her like a normal person. He would be able to show her that he was human and not some monster.

 

Oh, who was he fucking kidding. He'd probably hit on her and offer to have sex with her. He didn't want to be close to anyone, especially her. People and their hearts got hurt all the time. Ulquiorra had seen it time and time again. The comic artist had been dating a married woman over a long distance, and the husband found out. The novelist had been through a bitter divorce. The dancer had an abusive boyfriend. These people had allowed others to invade their lives and look what happened. It was better to fuck and run.

 

With a sigh, he got up from his chair, buttoning his jeans and putting his shirt back on. That redhead he had seen in that club a couple of months ago, messed with his brain. He did not see Orihime in some dimly lit club with some guy trying to fuck her from behind. That was not the woman he remembered. The one he remembered was good. She loved her friends. She prayed for her brother every day. She got excellent grades while in school.

 

The woman in the club looked like she was dressed to screw anything that might approach but had a resting bitch face. A severe case of it.

 

Perhaps he needed a day out again. It'd been a while since he went to that cafe with the really cute waitresses over in Shibuya. Maybe the one he had screwed in the bathroom of the place had forgotten about the encounter and moved on. He really hoped so.

 

The next day after a night filled with another one of those dreams where he had been walking through the halls of Las Noches, Ulquiorra got on the train. He had seen what he thought was a flash of copper hair but it had probably been the sun glinting off someone's metallic tote bag or something. People and their damn trends with flashy clothing.

 

Ulquiorra was a simple man. He wore jeans and a t-shirt every day except for events. He had a coat. He had a hoodie and sweatpants. That was the extent of his fashion choices. He knew some people looked down on him for it, but he didn't care. A word came to his thoughts for his mindset.

 

He was apathetic.

 

After the train ride and before he reached the cafe, he stopped to buy a local cultural rag and then walked into the place a few doors away. Ulquiorra ordered a coffee and one of their sandwiches and sat down to wait for it. He opened the magazine and started flipping through the pages to pass the time. He was just about to turn the page when something caught his eye. It was one of his early paintings.

 

He looked at it. The eyeless man with the horn sticking out one side of his head, rivulets of blackness ran down the subject's cheeks. It reminded him of the Segunda Etapa release. So much power had run through his body. So much spiritual pressure had been expended. There was so much more underneath it.

 

The caption under the picture said, "C. Murcielago must be an individual who deals with mental health issues. It shows in his subjects and angry brush strokes. This painting titled " _Kuroi Namida_ " shows that the artist is obviously hurting from within."

 

He scoffed. Whoever wrote these articles were full of shit. There was nothing wrong with him. The soul that left this body before he entered it had problems. Ulquiorra had dealt with his issues.

 

Turning the page, he was stopped short again. The image on the sheet made his breath hitch. His reptilian pupils widened giving him a somewhat human-like appearance for once. Those green eyes took in every detail on the page; from the teased side-swept hair and the edgy makeup done in colorful splotches on her eyes and lips to the airy sea green dress that strained against the size of her tits down to the strappy high heeled sandals, she wore as she posed. The caption read, "Inoue Orihime, a local student at Bunka Fashion College modeling a design made by Ishida Uryu poses in the college's spring fashion show."

 

His mouth went dry.

 

Inoue Orihime.

 

 _Fuck_. She was alive. She had survived.

 

Furrowing his brow in a stern expression, he studied the picture intensely. He knew where that college was. It was six, almost seven kilometers from his neighborhood. Normally he would have said something to the person who set his food and coffee in front of him, either flirty or sexual in nature but this time he remained silent with a scowl on his face.

 

He was tempting fate but seriously contemplating taking the train to the place and waiting to see if he could spot her in a crowd.

 

She was a tiny waif of a thing. He was sure he'd be able to see her. The red hair and dark eyes had to stand out. Reading the caption again, he remembered the Quincy. Ulquiorra had cut his hand off. That Hollowfied human had run, it's katana through him. The Arrancar had been certain that the teenager had died. It was impossible to survive a wound like the kid had and live to tell about it. He recalled the blood seeping through the white outfit the boy wore.

 

It seemed like Ishida wasn't dead. The male was undoubtedly living his life.

 

The scowl on his face darkened. He knew exactly what he was going to paint now. He knew what he wanted to show the world.

 

Ulquiorra was going to paint the woman again. Instead of protecting her from the world, he would show everything he had seen.

 

***

 

Ichigo's visit had left a sour taste in Orihime's mouth. She was surer than ever before that she had made the right decision to leave Karakura behind. It wasn't only Ichigo who had pissed her off though; Uryu had known he was coming and didn't say a word about it. She felt set up. She felt like once again, Uryu had used her as a pawn in his social chessboard. She was fed up.

 

She still had several months left on their lease though, so she had to suck it up.

 

Besides, the college's fashion week had just ended. Everyone had been on their last nerves. Both Uryu and Orihime's showings went well; they received kind words from attendees and a few mentions in local publications. Nothing to write home about, but still, it was encouraging. Orihime had modeled for Uryu and was featured in one of those publications. She suddenly found herself inundated with requests for her to model for art classes, for photographers, for other designers, and much to her chagrin, for pornographers. She ignored the latter requests but rarely said no to anyone else. Her connections were growing.

 

She was sitting in her living room, drinking some coffee and waiting for her nails to dry when Uryu zoomed through clad only in a towel. There used to be a time when the sight would make her self-conscious or somewhat aroused, but those days had long passed. He was just her roommate now. He paused to ask her what she was doing that weekend.

 

"Nothing in particular. I'm modeling on Saturday morning, but I was planning on going out in the evening. You?" She asked to be polite. She didn't particularly care what he was doing.

 

"I'm going to the opening of a new gallery show on Friday. You should come. Everyone's going to be there."

 

Orihime looked at him dubiously. "Everyone?"

 

Uryu looked at her like she had sprouted a third eye. "Yes! Earth to Orihime, everyone. Ty is going to be there, Aki is going to be there, Zerge, Pauletto… Markus."

 

Orihime rolled her eyes. If Markus was going, she had better go. Markus was an up and coming designer who was being courted by all the big name fashion journalists. If she wanted to be recognizable, she would need to be recognized by Markus.

 

"Fine. Leave me the details later. Go get dressed."

 

Orihime cleared her Friday night calendar. She needed to be noticed. She spent the day planning her look. Every detail was carefully crafted. Markus was all about clean, minimalistic lines. He preferred to work in black and white. She decided to follow suit.

 

She had a white leather pencil skirt in her closet with black piping up the center and sides. She had a high-collared, sheer, sleeveless, white tunic. She had a white bustier to wear underneath. She had black strappy heels and a long metallic black bolero necklace. This would work. She just had to keep her makeup fresh and minimal and straighten her hair.

 

When Uryu came home and saw her outfit, he did a double take. "Hime, um… have you worn that outfit before? It looks kind of familiar."

 

"No, this tunic is new, and I've never worn any of these pieces together, you must be imagining things. Let's get the fuck out of here it's hotter than hell."

 

With that they left, getting into a taxi they couldn't really afford, but then they couldn't afford to be seen taking the subway either.

 

When they arrived at the gallery, which was the kind of post-industrial space that she had seen a thousand times before, she was unimpressed. There was a large group of people there, milling about, nibbling on bits of cheese and drinking glasses of low-priced wine poured from high-priced bottles, but she didn't see any of the high-profile people Uryu had mentioned.

 

"What the hell, Quin, I thought you said Markus and Pauletto were going to be here?"

 

"Don't call me that," Uryu hissed at her. "It doesn't sound cool."

 

"I think it sounds badass. You're just a sourpuss," she countered.

 

"Whatever, bitch. They're coming. I just got a text from Aki that they're on their way."

 

"Don't call me a bitch in a place like this, _bitch_." she hissed back.

 

Orihime took a glass of the proffered white and took a sip, wincing at the acidity. This was some kind of boxed swill for sure. Probably a new pinot grigio. They always made her mouth pucker. She couldn't be seen dumping it out though, so she just carried it around like a prop, forcing herself to take a sour sip once in a while.

 

Finally, after about forty-five minutes, Markus and his entourage arrived. Uryu immediately approached Aki, grabbing her by the forearms and kissing the air on either side of her cheeks, squealing about how good it was to see her and how fabulous she looked. Aki, a thirty-year-old avant-garde designer with a shiny black bowl cut and oversized round glasses, merely nodded and looked over at Uryu's companion. "Ah, you must be that Inoue girl everyone's been talking about. Come here and let me look at you," she demanded, without a hint of civility.

 

Orihime knew better than to challenge the hierarchy. She marched over and stood before Aki with her spine straight and a far-off expression. Aki arched an eyebrow in approval and walked around the younger woman in a semi-circle.

 

"Yes, I can see why they say you are better for editorial. You are too short, and your tits are grotesque. But your skin is flawless. Markus, come look at this girl. You should have her try your winter line for photographs."

 

Markus glanced over, "Uh, yeah, get her number, Aki." He was more interested in getting Uryu's number. Uryu was more than happy to provide it.

 

The redhead gave Aki a card and thanked her for her time and offered to get her a drink. Aki told her "A dry red," in clipped tones and turned her attention back to the group of young men she had arrived with.

 

Orihime grumbled only slightly as she went to retrieve what was probably boxed Banrock Station cab from a man wearing all black with a pencil-thin mustache. She brought the drink back to Aki and bowed slightly. Her face to face obligations were now fulfilled unless she was approached by someone else. She decided to switch to a glass of the supposed Banrock Station cab, which despite being cheap was significantly easier to drink than the white, and started to wander the gallery on her own.

 

The artwork she saw was shocking. Not the subject matter itself. No, she had seen much more appalling content before. It was the familiarity of the subject matter that was so shocking. A desert at night with white sand, its sky was pitch black with no stars. There was a horned helmet in the sand, the tip of the horn gleaming in the moonlight. She shuddered. "Deja vu," she said to herself before moving on.

 

The next painting was what appeared to be a thornbush or tree made out of crystal with a bat on it. It also resided in a white night desert. This was not as familiar as the last, although the night desert theme still struck her as uncanny. Who was this artist? Surely not someone who had seen Hueco Mundo. Her spiritual abilities were very rusty, but she was still able to detect that there was no one in the building with any elevated spiritual pressure beside herself and Uryu.

 

She moved on. The next painting was entitled, "Kuroi Namida". Black tears, she thought to herself as she beheld an eyeless man with black blood trailing from the sockets. Now she was really freaked out. This was a scene from her nightmares. She took a step back and scanned the room. There was no way this could be real. No one here beside her and Uryu knew who Ulquiorra had been. Why would someone else have painted him? Yes, it was a stylized image, but it was clear to her who the intended subject was.

 

She was being crazy. This was all just a very unlikely coincidence. She downed her glass of wine and reached for another. She should have eaten something before she left the house. Maybe the alcohol was making her paranoid. She sighed softly. Yeah, that was it. She moved to the next painting.

 

This one was abstract, with soft patches of color covered by bold brushstrokes in black, green, neon blue, and red. There wasn't an obvious pattern or resemblance to anything else. She again had a familiar feeling with the painting. She was beginning to accept that maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.

 

The next painting was another abstract piece, this one all in shades of gray, white, and black, with the exception of swirling oranges and turquoise. It was peaceful. It was pretty. She liked it. She stood and admired it while she sipped on her wine. After a few more minutes she moved on.

 

The next painting she also quite liked. It was a crescent moon in a black sky. Nothing else. Simple. Beautiful. Common. Not at all an obvious Hueco Mundo reference, she told her nervous brain in no uncertain terms. She looked at it and started to remember the feeling of being a captive in Hueco Mundo. It made her anxious. She finished the second glass of red and reached for a third.

 

The next couple of paintings were more abstract pieces that she didn't much care for, but the last two were paired side by side. They were the same size and orientation. When Orihime came to stand before them, she nearly dropped her wine glass. Her eyes widened. This was impossible. Without a doubt, she was looking at two images of herself. One as a sixteen-year-old girl in an Arrancar uniform, looking out a barred window to the unmoving moon of Hueco Mundo. Beside this image was another, an image of her nude back and face in profile, her old turquoise flower hairpins clearly displayed on her temples.

 

Who could have painted this? Who knew her then? She looked at the name of the artist carefully for the first time that night.

 

_C. Murcielago._

 

Shit. SHIT.

 

***

 

He'd been watching from the security room. He always did this at shows; at least on the first night. Ulquiorra wanted to see who expressed interest in his paintings, but he really wanted to see who showed up. The art critics. The posh couples. The local rich people who liked to be seen.

 

Tonight was different He'd been waiting for this for four years. The redhead moved through the room examining every painting, and he could do nothing but stare as what he could only describe as horror crossed her face. Then the expression was gone.

 

"Murcielago-san?"

 

"Hmmm?"

 

"Something wrong?"

 

"The woman standing in front of the last two paintings. Invite her back." Ulquiorra didn't acknowledge the man leaving. He was too busy wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Did human eyes wear out? His eyes weren't necessarily human. When he had looked at himself in a mirror, he still had two elongated vertical pupils. They were still that vividly uncommon shade of emerald. The only difference being that if he pulled one of his eyes out now, it wouldn't grow back.

 

Watching the gallery owner walk up to the woman was nerve-wracking. Why had he sent him out there? Why couldn't he find the balls to go out there himself?

 

Ulquiorra knew why. The Quincy was there and he didn't feel like dying for the third time in his life. It would be bad to show his face to people who only knew him as an enemy. With a nod to the security guard, Ulquiorra left the room and walked down to the private room he was allowed access to so that he could wait. He knew that the gallery owner could only suggest things and not force her to visit him.

 

He hoped the man was good at charming people, otherwise, this entire show would be for nothing.

 

***

 

"It's a lovely painting isn't it?" Armand Helden, the gallery owner, said as he came up to where Orihime stood. "It really shows the feeling of loneliness and isolation that the artist must have felt."

 

"Can I ask you something?"

 

Helden smiled at the woman, "Of course you may."

 

"Do you think I'm lovely? Do you see a resemblance here?" she asked, more than a little on edge.

 

Raising an eyebrow, the man peered at this woman he had been sent to retrieve. He had an image to maintain, so he gave the nod. "From just looking at you, you seem to be a lovely person and believe me; I know a work of art when I see one."

 

Orihime sighed with emphasis, then hissed at the owner, "Spare me the bullshit, sir. Excuse my language, but that's what this is. That is me. I demand to see who painted it."

 

"Ah, it might be bullshit but-" the gallery owner looked at the woman to see a rather hostile expression on her face. "I think the artist is still in the building. If you follow me, I will escort you to see Murcielago-san."

 

With that, the tall man turned and motioned for the woman to follow him. He was unsure what his prized artist was doing, but he must have known this woman. The resemblance was rather striking. He could see the nose was not exactly right. The way the woman's chin was held wasn't spot on, but it was close enough.

 

Helden made sure that the woman was behind him as they moved down a roped off corridor. The duo came to a door, and he held up a hand. "I will tell him that you're out here and see if he's accepting visitors."

 

Orihime sighed and walked right past the owner, opening the door on her own and ignoring his protests. Once inside, shut the door behind her.

 

"Who are you?" she demanded.


	3. A.K.A...

Ulquiorra was not ready for the voice that filtered through his eardrums, hammering on his auditory cortex. It was not the voice of a young girl filled with emotion while she talked about her friends. This was an angry woman who sounded like she had had enough of people's bullshit.

 

"Who am I?" All he did was turn his head enough so she could see his face past the long black hair that he swept out of the way. Ulquiorra waited for her to register his appearance and then slowly turned around. "Who am I?"

 

Orihime was stunned. He was dead. He  _was_ dead. She couldn't believe her eyes. It would have surprised her less to see Aizen sitting in that chair. No sound escaped her lips, but they silently formed the incredulous words, "Fuck. Me."

 

She staggered back a step and bobbled. It wasn't the wine. She grabbed onto a nearby side table. She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes tightly before opening them and seeing that face again.

 

The same face from the club a few months ago.

 

The same face from Hueco Mundo six years ago.

 

She finally found her voice. "Ulquiorra."

 

He did not expect her reaction to be this. Ulquiorra did not expect her to say those words. It probably wasn't an invitation because she looked distraught. She looked traumatized. She looked upset.

 

Then she said his name.

 

"The correct name is _C. Murcielago_ but yes, Inoue Orihime. You know me as Ulquiorra Cifer," he replied, looking at her.

 

"That's because that's your fucking name, Ulquiorra!" she shouted. "You died! You're dead! You-" she had to sit down.

 

He scoffed at her tirade but said nothing. She was close to him. Close enough if he wanted to, he could touch her. Ulquiorra wouldn't. She didn't seem to be as welcoming to this idea as he was. "I did die. As you see though, I did not stay dead. You should keep your voice down."

 

Orihime sighed and took a deep, calming breath. Her eyebrows knit together as she began to feel a cacophony of emotions swell inside of her. Her breathing hitched for a moment, and then she stomped down the tears that threatened to surface. She raised her eyes to him. Her face was sad, despite herself.

 

"How?"

 

"Urahara isn't sure. He mentioned something happened a couple of years ago that messed up the Soul Society's system. All I know is that I was floating and then suddenly, I was in a place in Kabukicho," Ulquiorra said to her. He was watching her face as he explained the piss poor excuse he had gotten.

 

Orihime dropped her head into her hands. "It was the war…" she murmured, before looking back at him with a very vague understanding. "That still doesn't explain anything. Still, I suppose Aizen would be better to ask than Urahara about that kind of thing. At least he's more forthcoming," she continued somewhat absentmindedly before sharpening her focus. "Not that it matters, I'm not exactly on speaking terms with either of them anyway."

 

He shook his head. "Why are you here?"

 

"You mean at this show? A friend dragged me along."

 

"No, I mean why are you here. Why are you back here?" Ulquiorra knew that he had told the owner to bring her back here but she didn't have to know that. "Why are you invading my space?"

 

Orihime scoffed. She was not impressed with his attitude. This should be some kind of mind-blowing reunion. Worlds were literally colliding. And he was asking her  _why she was invading his space_? She didn't have to put up with this. She stood up. "I had to see it with my own eyes to believe it. I've seen it," she muttered, then turned and walked to the door.

 

"What do you think of your paintings?" Ulquiorra asked. He didn't want her to leave. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to hang onto her. "They're all from memory, you know."

 

She paused, her hand on the doorknob. She didn't turn around. "Do you want the truth or do you want me to tell you what I think you want to hear?"

 

Ulquiorra gave a chuckle. "Still the same, aren't you Woman? Do you think I'm one of your friends who wants a candy-coated truth? I don't. I never did. I'm not Kurosaki. I'm not some unrequited love you're chasing after. I want an honest answer from you always."

 

Orihime gave a short, mirthless laugh and twisted to show him her face. She wore a world-weary smile. "Kuro-who? I don't know anybody by that name. Anyway. Honest answer? Most of them are beautiful. You got my nose wrong. My ass looks better than that. I like the turquoise and orange swirly one. The _K_ _uroi Namida_ was straight out of my nightmares. Shall I go on?"

 

"I'm sure you don't," Ulquiorra stated. He moved a couple of steps towards her. "I see that I got your nose wrong. It's more curved than I originally thought. As for your ass, well, it's been a long time since I've seen it. Anyway-"

 

"Tch, you've never seen it."

 

"You think that. Aizen had surveillance all over Las Noches. Anyway, the rest are drivel. They're trash paintings to fill my obligations to the gallery. They'll be sold just like the others." Ulquiorra stared at her before he turned away. "Nice outfit by the way. Very nostalgic."

 

Orihime was starting to tremble a bit. Her initial indignation was subsiding and the reality of him being alive was starting to sink in. She grabbed at her elbow and looked down, suddenly feeling and looking very small. Her heart was betraying her. She didn't want this. She didn't want to feel sympathy for the devil. She furrowed her brows and tried to salvage her resolve. "So was Aizen the pervert or were you?"

 

In an instant, Ulquiorra turned around glaring at her. How dare she accuse him of being a pervert! How dare she say that about him. "I was doing my job," he snapped. "I was supposed to watch you and that's what I did!"

 

She was hit with clarity. Of course. That's what it had always been, hadn't it? All the talk of hearts and sad last words were just an illusion she had clung to all these years to console herself with. She smiled at him. It was a small, genuine thing. She nodded once. "I know, Ulquiorra. I'm sorry. I was taking things out of context; six years will do that to memories, you know?" She paused and sighed. "Anyway, you may not believe me, but I'm really glad you're not dead."

 

"You're not sorry and you're not glad. I watched you as you viewed every painting of mine. I saw your reaction when you came upon The Woman and the Moon and Midori No Ai." Ulquiorra knew this wasn't going to go well but he didn't think he'd feel this anger swirling in a vortex inside of his chest.

 

"Let me ask you this, Cifer: how would you feel if someone you saw die before your eyes; someone whose hand turned to ash _just_ as you were about to finally grasp it, suddenly just _showed up_ and was making a profit off of your image? It's more than a little unnerving, I'll tell you that much. I had no idea it was you, anyway. That's why I demanded to come back here. I can't feel your spiritual pressure at all!"

 

He tilted his head to the side as if he were appraising her. This woman was so odd, so strange. "I didn't just show up. I've been alive for four years now and it's what I do, Woman. I paint. I sell the art. I get money. That's how the world works, I'm sure you know that unless you have some man who is footing your bills." He scoffed. "I have no spiritual pressure. I'm human."

 

She had multiple reactions to his retort and paused for a moment while she decided which one took priority. Finally, she scoffed right back. "A _man?_ Ha! You've got to be kidding me. You were watching me. No one dares approach me. And I know how commerce works, thank you very much."

 

"A woman then, if you're into that," he said.

 

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Oh my god. No. I am very much alone. Why do you care?"

 

"When did I watch you? I've just learned you're alive," Ulquiorra stated. He walked over to where the redhead stood and stared at her. "Why do I care? You want to know why I care?"

 

"I meant in the gallery tonight. And yes, I do want to know."

 

His jaw clenched. There were little details that he had missed while painting her. The way her brow creased and the shape of her lips. Yes, he'd gotten her nose in the second painting totally wrong. He could always go back and fix it. It seemed wrong that he was thinking of these things when he had invited several women on dates this week. Ulquiorra brought his hand up but did not touch her. "You'd be the perfect model," he replied, dodging her question somewhat. "You are the perfect model. You are my muse at times."

 

"Oh," she said, surprised. She lowered her guard. It made sense to her that she would inspire him; it was not everyday people carried memories from a past life. She thought he was proposing a business transaction. "Well, I've been kind of busy lately but I have some openings starting the week after next. I do all my own bookings so I can just give you my card…"

 

She sounded like she was reading from a script.

 

A straight brow rose on one side of his face. Was she saying that she'd be willing to sit for him? Ulquiorra's irritation blew away, leaving him. Was this woman proposing-How would that affect his life being around her? How would that affect him? He was a loner. He was a castle surrounded by a moat. No one was let in. It took him a long moment before he could answer. He was going to take the opportunity. "I will pay you. Cancel whatever you have. Give me your number and whenever I text, I expect you to be at the address I provide."

 

Orihime looked at him like he was nuts. "No, I will not. I have industry relationships to maintain. I have a schedule to adhere to. I'm not just some little peon that you can have at your beck and call. What do you think I am, some kind of whore? Jesus." She was getting riled up.

 

"I'd like to-" Ulquiorra had to censor himself. Inoue was not one nameless woman in the sea of people surrounding him. If she texted him, he would reply in a heartbeat. If she called him he would answer. He wouldn't even attempt to make her leave his loft. "Whatever your Quincy friend dressed you in for his fashion show stated otherwise."

 

Before she could stop herself, her fag hag tendencies took over and she burst into laughter, leaning toward him and brushing his arm with her fingertips flirtatiously and then pulling back. "You're right!" she cackled. "His taste is _questionable_. I did look hot though. Like, it was obscene…" she trailed off and her eyes widened as she remembered that this was not 2-chome and Ulquiorra was _not_ one of her gay friends.

 

Her touch had been what set him off. It ignited a spark within him. It was the catalyst to his actions. "Fuck hot, you're gorgeous," he said before grabbing her arms and pulling her towards him. Ulquiorra knew he was being an idiot. He knew this woman was the reason he was alive and he wanted her. He was thirsty for her. That's why he had painted all those images of her.

 

Ulquiorra kissed her and he didn't fucking regret it. He pressed his body against hers, letting his lips brush against hers before he kissed her fully, staggering their lips so that his top lip was between hers. He pulled away slightly before doing it again.

 

This was not what she expected. She felt like she was having an out of body experience. She was passive in his arms, allowing him to do what he wanted. She didn't know why she didn't object. She was unable to recognize how she was feeling. If she had to describe it, it would be like being rendered absolutely useless. She melted. He pulled back as quickly as he had started, and she staggered again, unsteady on her feet. A dumb kind of half-smile pulled at her lips, and she looked from one corner of the room to another trying to get her bearings.

 

"Give me your card," he said, voice thick with desire. Ulquiorra had never experienced something this strong or deep for any of the women he had slept over the past four years. Those other women meant nothing to him. "I'll text you in a few days."

 

Orihime nodded dumbly, reaching into her purse and pulling out a card. She offered it to him with both hands and a small, customary bow. While facing the floor, she started to feel like she needed to escape. She didn't know how to do it. She didn't know if she'd be able to face him again. She didn't want to raise her head.

 

"Woman?" Ulquiorra asked once he was certain that he could talk without sounding like a pervert. He didn't expect the next words to come out of his mouth. It was meant to be a flippant apology, not a confession. "I want to do that again."

 

She turned her face up toward him expressionlessly. He kissed her. He wanted to do it again. He wasn't gay. This wasn't some rando at a club getting too frisky only to turn away once the beat dropped. No, this was her first 'real' kiss. It had been soft. It had been well-executed. It had been with a dead guy. _Holy shit_.

 

"Holy shit," she said in kind of a space cadet voice, bringing her fingers absently to her lips.

 

"What?" Ulquiorra was confused by her reaction. He started to reach for her again.

 

It was the question that seemed to suction her consciousness back to her body. Her eyes widened in realization and she backed up, plastering a too-large grin on her face. "Uh, I don't know. Um, yeah. Um, you have my number, so, you know. Let me know and I can get you on the schedule," she rambled, continuing her backward motion toward the door. She felt behind her blindly for the knob. "Anyway, it was nice to meet you-" She shook her head at herself. _Idiot._ "It was nice to see you again, Ulquiorra. Bye," she said as she finally got the door open and slipped out. She turned and took off down the corridor back to the gallery space like a woman on a mission.

 

Ulquiorra stood in that private room staring at the door; staring at the spot where she had stood. What the hell just happened? He stared at the card in his hand before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He quickly entered her number into a new contact field then tapped out a message.

 
    
    
    - _Get back here_. 

 

She felt her phone buzz in her purse. She didn't check it. She moved faster toward the exit, only to be pulled aside by Uryu. "Hey, where have you been? It's almost time to go. We're going to Aquamarine."

 

He resent the text but still didn't receive a reply. Frustrated, he flopped down onto the red couch that sat in the room and brooded.

 

Orihime nodded and followed along with Uryu, Markus, and the others. She needed to be distracted. She needed a lot of distraction. She grabbed another glass of wine in a plastic cup to go. It would not be her last of the evening.

 

***

 

All eight of the paintings being offered were sold. Ulquiorra had gone to his favorite place and gotten more ink to celebrate. He did what any lovesick fool would have done as he sat in a tattooing chair inside of a place called Candy Ink. He got a heart tattooed on the middle of his chest.

 

He did nothing but think of Orihime that night. He hung the other painting beside The Woman and the Moon. She had to have known why he titled the painting of her body what he did. Ulquiorra had basically told her everything she needed to know with those words.

 

 _Ugh_.

 

It was making him sick. It was stupid. She clearly didn't want him. Why would she just stumble and back out of the room, babbling if she did?

 

Weeks passed. More supplies were bought. Canvases, paint, and brush cleaner. He didn't have any shows lined up for a while. There was one in four months, he thought. He tapped a couple of keys on the keyboard and checked his calendar. Nope, it was five months. His next show would be at the end of summer.

 

Ulquiorra texted the woman, demanding her presence. He wanted to paint her and after an hour with no reply, he couldn't stand it any longer.

 

Inspiration was brimming, about to spill over when he texted that number again. He set the phone down and turned on some music. Sultry jazz filled the air as he dipped his paintbrush into the blob of paint he laid down. The fuzzy sound of the brush going across the canvas was soothing to his jagged nerves.

 

This was familiar. This was what he knew. Him, the paint and the fresh start in front of him. It wasn't a new horizon like photography was going to be. He'd bought an expensive camera from the shop in Shinjuku. He learned how to use it. Whenever he left the apartment, he took it with him in case he saw something that inspired him. So far nothing had.

 

Only the memory of his mouth against hers inspired him to paint. Seeing Inoue had drudged up an old monster that wanted to consume anyone who came into her vicinity. He wanted to watch her again.

 

The images had not been crystal clear and Ulquiorra always suspected that Ichimaru had something to do with it. Before the other ex-shinigamis showed up, Las Noches' surveillance system was flawless. After they arrived, they had intruders, unclear camera images, and Espada dying left and right.

 

Hours went by or at least it felt like it. He stepped back with emerald green paint streaked down his cheek and stared at what he had painted. A distorted image of himself stared back with a yellow iris and green sclera. The same black stripes painted his face and long hair hung down the side of it. The next painting showed his normal eye but with smaller black stripes and a white helmet covering the top of his head. To complete the triptych, Ulquiorra had painted what he had looked like as the fourth Espada complete with his mask fragment.

 

Each painting only had one side of his face.

 

After he cleaned his mess, he flopped down into his computer chair and stopped the music that was playing. Silence lingered in the apartment. His phone screen lit up and he saw he had a new text message. It was from the woman.

 

The incoming text asked for a time and date. Hadn't he told her that he expected her to come running when he demanded? Tch. He didn't care if she had other obligations.

 

Ulquiorra sent a reply. He honestly did not expect her to reply. Why would she reply now since she hadn't replied to the others he had sent.

 

Rude bitch. No wonder she didn't have anyone in her life.


	4. Manwhore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME of our notes/convos from this chapter.  
> JKR: Boom goes the dynamite.  
> EIV: OH BOY. Shut up Ulq.  
> EIV: :| she caused this.  
> EIV: ARE YOU READY? :D  
> JKR: Fuckin always!!drmsnjxeuyfcutfxhtdxtj!!  
> JKR: Uryxyrezuexircougvulhvk*jy &  
> EIV: Oops. I broke her.

Orihime was at the gym when she got a reply.  She was eager to read it and got off her elliptical machine without cooling down.  She tapped at her screen and rolled her eyes. He was still playing this game?

 

She tapped out a message.

 

  * _Can’t.  I’m at the gym.  Later may be ok. What TIME?_



 

She smirked and turned off her phone to hit the showers.  When she came out, there was another message. It read:

 

_\-  Why are you at the gym when you’re almost perfect?  Need to work on your manners._

 

She scoffed. _She_ had to work on her manners?   _Almost_ perfect?  Who did he think he was?  The message deserved a rebuke:

 

  * _Whose manners need work?  And what do you mean, “almost” perfect?  Tsk tsk. What a charmer. Anyhow, I’m done at the gym.  I was planning to meet up with Uryu and go out. If you want to get some work done instead, I, can probably squeeze it in, but as I said before, I’m not at your beck and call.  I’m going to need you to give me a proposed time._



 

She sent the message and slipped her phone into her purse.  Then, overwhelmed by curiosity, she picked the phone up again and pulled up the message with the address.  Koenji. It wasn’t that far. In fact, she thought she might have been to that building before; a designer had lived there and thrown an after-party one night.  She didn’t remember much about it except that there were a lot of stairs. Well, hopefully, Ulquiorra had a studio on one of the lower levels.

 

Ulquiorra glared at his screen. Tch, who did she think she was? He tapped out a message to her, scowling the entire time.

 

 _\- Work on your resting bitch face, and you would be perfect._ 8 pm _._

 

She got his message right before she put her phone away.  Ha! He thought he knew a thing or two? Obviously not about her. She smiled as she replied.

 

  * _8 is gr8.  My RBF is ON POINT.  You’re just jealous. That’s saying something too; your RBF is fierce._



 

She giggled as she put the phone away, then shook her head at herself; she had been too quick to press send.  She took her phone out again.

 

  * _Do I need to bring anything?  Do you need dirty or clean hair?  I just showered, but I could do product if you need it, but otherwise, it’s a blank slate._



 

Work before pleasure, after all.

 

The dark-haired man snorted. A very dirty thought crossed his mind as he sat at his desk. He had searched Orihime and had multiple pictures of her on the screen. Mostly modeling shots and artistic photos. The woman was a tiny work of art, how did she get into modeling and fashion?

 

_\- I can help you make it dirty. I don’t have a bitch face._

 

The text made him smirk, but he didn’t feel any remorse. Orihime She was just another woman. That’s what he would continue to tell himself.

 

She rolled her eyes at his text. _Sure you’re not a bitch,_ she thought as she got off the train at her stop.  She still had about an hour and a half before she would have to make her way to Koenji.  She didn’t feel the need to respond to Ulquiorra’s text.

 

As she ate a light supper, she pondered what kind of work he would want her to do.  She hoped it wouldn’t be nudes; that would just be awkward. It would not be her first time, but it was different doing it for flamingly gay sculptors than it would be for Ulquiorra.  Still, she was a professional. She would act accordingly.

 

Uryu breezed through the apartment just as she was putting her dishes away.  “What the hell Hime, you’re not ready!”

 

“No, I have a job.  I may be able to meet up with you guys later.  Where are you going?”

 

“I have no idea.  I’ll let you know.  What job? You didn’t have one this morning.”  Uryu was starting to sound suspicious again.

 

Orihime sighed.  “Remember that gallery we went to with those gruesome Hueco Mundo-esque paintings?”

 

“Yes, how could I forget?” Uryu bitched.  “You just ditched us. Markus asked for you, you know.”

 

“Really?” she asked, suddenly distracted by this bit of information.

 

“Yeah, he was not impressed that you just fucked off.  Where did you go, by the way?”

 

“Actually, I met C. Murcielago,” she informed him.

 

“Augh, not you too, Hime?  He’s such a manwhore.” Uryu moaned.

 

“What?  What do you mean, ‘not me too?”  I didn’t do anything with him!” she swallowed that lie hard.  “Anyway, he wanted to ask me to do some modeling for him. I bear a striking resemblance to the figure in his most famous piece.”

 

Uryu had to agree with here there.  “Yeah, I guess. But don’t go blowing off Markus anymore.  I’ll let him know why you did last time. He’s been dying to meet Murcielago himself.  Maybe you can introduce him if you get to be friendly with the guy. But between you and me, I’ve heard he’s an asshole.”

 

“You don’t say?” Orihime said with slight amusement. _If you only fucking knew, Ishida-kun,_ she thought with an inner sneer.  After the bit of information she surreptitiously received from Uryu about Ulquiorra’s reputation, she decided the sweats she was wearing from the gym would be a perfectly acceptable wardrobe choice.  She didn’t want to give him any ideas. “Welp, time for me to go. Don’t wait up,” she said with an ironic wink.

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Uryu called after her as she left the apartment.

 

***

 

When she arrived at the address, she was a bit early, and stood in front of the building, regarding it.  It was indeed the same building that she had previously visited for the designer after-party. She recalled there being no elevator.  She pulled up the text with the address.

 

Twelfth floor.

 

She groaned.  Good thing she was wearing sweats.

 

She made her way up the stairs, and by the time she reached the top, she was late and out of breath.  She knocked.

 

Ulquiorra was in the kitchen when the knock came. He looked at his microwave, and at the time it said. The woman was late. He sighed. “One moment,” he said before walking to his desk and grabbing the t-shirt he had left there. It didn’t take much to put it back on his torso. He made sure his mess was cleaned up and that his computer was off before he walked back to the door and opened it.

 

Orihime stood there panting and clutching her side.  “What would possess you to have a studio here, of all places,” she wheezed.

 

He rolled his eyes at her. “I thought you went to the gym? This place is nothing compared to where my quarters were in Las Noches. You wouldn’t know about that though. Let’s just say the fourth tower was destroyed in the battle between Kurosaki and me.  Get in here; you’re late.”

 

“I wouldn’t have been if you had warned me there was no elevator,” she grumbled as she walked in, her hands pushing into her lower back to free her ribcage as she tried to inhale more oxygen.  “I’m surprised you even remember that guy. I certainly don’t waste any brain cells on him,” she said in a haughty tone.

 

“It’s kind of hard to forget the guy who murdered me. You know the guy you relied on to help you kill me?” Ulquiorra wasn’t bitter at all. He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “It’s in the past. Water under the bridge, you know? I’ll let you catch your breath. There’s a chair you can sit in through there.”

His pale hand pointed to the open doorway.

 

She followed the direction he pointed her toward, muttering, “Fair point,” as she passed him.  She entered into a large open room with some side tables, a computer desk and chair, and little else besides an easel and loads of painting supplies.  It looked like a legit studio. She strode into the room, getting her bearings. She did not sit in the chair he had offered but did some stretches. She was modest enough to keep her back away from the entrance.  “So, I know a guy who is apparently  _dying_ to meet you, if you’re interested.  He’s kind of a big deal in the scene.  I don’t get the impression that you really are into that kind of thing, though,” she called as she bent down to press her palms on the floor.

 

Ulquiorra had been leaning against the wall, watching her with his arms folded across his chest. After several minutes he had to look away from her form. Whatever she was doing was going to cause him to be rude to her, and the dark-haired man did not want that. “Nah, not into impressing anyone. Why should I? He can die for all I care.”

 

“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel, Ulquiorra.  Or do you want me to call you “C”,” she said, looking up at his face with a sassy smirk.

 

He shook his head and walked over to his desk, sitting down. Ulquiorra didn’t need to stand up. If he continued to stand, then it was possible he’d do something stupid to her. “Call me as you have always called me. My name, Woman. You don’t care how I feel so why should I say anything?”

 

She stood up and sighed.  “Why would you say that, Ulquiorra.”  It wasn’t a question. She shook her head, disappointed in him.  “I may not be the same girl you kidnapped; I’m not exactly a little bundle of sunshine anymore.  But I’m not cruel. I care how you feel.”

 

“Fine,” he stated. Ulquiorra stared at her, taking in how she looked and her expression. He bit his lip wondering if he should say what was on his mind. His brain was screaming at him to do it, just to see her reaction but he figured it would probably scare her off. “You want to know how I really feel? You’re going to run anyways. I want to fuck you.”

 

Orihime laughed.  “Well I’ll be damned, he was right.”

 

“Who was right?”

 

“Uryu.  He told me you were a big manwhore,” she was still smiling.

 

Ulquiorra snorted. How the hell would that Quincy know anything about him and his personal life? He didn’t fuck around with guys. They held no interest. He only liked females with funny, copper colored hair. His mouth twisted into a frown. “Yet, you’re still here,” he said. “You never answered my text.”

 

She put her hands on her hips and stared him down.  “I told you to make an appointment. You may be used to fangirls dropping panties whenever you want and running to you when you snap your fingers.  What you do in your spare time is frankly none of my business. I’m not your fangirl, Ulquiorra. We have history. I know it’s a warped take on things, but I kind of liked to imagine that we were something close to friends.  I think we could be now, too. And if not, it doesn’t change the reason I’m here. I’m a design industry professional. I do modeling. That is why I am here. To mod-dell,” she said with emphasis.

 

It was then that Ulquiorra stood. He lifted an arm and pointed to the space above his desk and gave the woman a deadpan stare. “I think it’s the other way around. I’ve seen all the pictures you’ve done or at least the ones that are published. I’ve painted over twenty images of you. They’re my biggest money makers. Do you think I give a fuck if you’re a “professional”? I don’t. I couldn’t care less.” He walked over to where the short redhead stood. “Why? Why are you here? Why did you come? Curious about me? You said you’re not at my beck and call so why didn’t you just blow me off and go out with your precious Quincy?”

 

“Wow,” she said with a judgmental glance in his direction.  “You really don’t make any sense. But, I’ll answer your questions, _Ulquiorra-same,_ ” she paused to glare at him before reverting to her impassive resting bitch face.  “My ‘precious Quincy’ is my most obnoxious roommate. Gay as the day is long, overprotective, competitive, and overall a thorn in my side.  He’s also my only friend in the world right now, so I have to put up with him. I’m not at your beck and call. You made an appointment. I _am_ curious about you.  How couldn’t I be? And what difference does it make that you make money off my image to the fact that I’m a professional model?”

 

He always hated her honorifics. The people he hung around always tried it, and he had corrected them, saying it was just Murcielago. He’d even corrected the gallery owner, but the man had lived in Japan so long it was ingrained in him. “It’s just Ulquiorra,” he said. “I’ve told you this before, Woman. I know I’m not making sense but the fact of the matter is nothing makes sense to me. I’ve only been in this world for four years. Do you know what it is like to live for hundreds of years as a powerful creature only to be reduced to a human? Do you know what it’s like to hold a certain aspect of death only to realize you have feelings for someone as you’re dying? Of course, you don’t but can your tiny brain imagine that?”

 

He scoffed at her then turned. Ulquiorra was getting angry and flustered. He did not want to show her how he was feeling. “How much do you charge for a sitting fee?”

 

She was stunned by his admission.  She had often fancied that he had developed feelings for her, but over the years she had convinced herself that it was all in her head.  Despite that, this information didn’t change the fact that he had a reputation to fuck anything on two legs with breasts. In a small voice, she answered.  “I don’t know. I’m sorry. My fee is 2000 yen per hour.”

 

“You work for absolutely nothing. Nice. I’ll pay you ten-thousand yen per hour. That should cover your twelve flights of stairs workout and any other fees you may incur.” Ulquiorra turned his head to look at her. “What are you curious about?”

 

She was stunned.  “That’s too generous, Ulquiorra. I could never accept that.  I don’t even have an agent or anything. This is really just a part-time thing while I’m in school…”  She trailed off, not sure how to continue. He asked what she was curious about. ‘Everything’ would be a bit broad.

 

“Anyway,” she continued with an awkward smile, before putting her foot so deep into her mouth she was surprised she could ever breathe again, “I’m curious about why you kissed me last time.”

 

“I thought it would be obvious or are you that oblivious?” He pivoted to face her and moved closer to Orihime. When had he started thinking of her as Orihime and not Inoue or just Woman? He gave his head a little shake. Desire laced his voice again as he stood within millimeters of her. A hand came up to cup her face. “You’ve been kissed before haven’t you?”

 

Her breath stuttered.  “Kind of,” she breathed, very aware of his proximity.

 

His brow arched. “Kind of? Either you have or you haven’t, Woman.”

 

“Well,” she gulped, “Never for real. Only like, random gay guys wanting to make a scene by kissing a woman…” she closed her eyes, tightly.  Why couldn’t she just push him away?

 

Maybe he misinterpreted her actions, but Ulquiorra leaned down and pressed his lips against her mouth. He did the same kiss as before but slower this time, giving her time to respond. His hand tilted her chin up just so, while the other hand found her waist. He closed the minimal gap between them.

 

She shut down again.  Why was he kissing her?  The answer should have been obvious.  He had said so himself earlier. She knew she should push him away, but it felt so nice… He was good at this.  He obviously had had a lot of practice. That’s right. Ol’ manwhore Murcielago. He was probably a walking venereal disease.  That did it. That broke the spell. She brought a hand to his chest and firmly pushed. “What are you doing, Ulquiorra? I may not have said so explicitly, but I’m not here to ‘fuck’, as you so gently put it.”

 

“You asked and I answered. You should know that I won’t handle you with kid gloves.” Ulquiorra huffed a breath out. He took a step back from her and dug into his pocket for his wallet. “I think we’re done here, Woman. How much do you want me to pay you?”

 

She was horrified, and it showed on her face.  “I am  _not_ one of your whores!” she whimpered, staring at him for a moment, waiting for offense to fill the place currently held by overwhelming hurt.  It took about eight seconds. She turned on her heel to leave.

 

Oh no. She had done this the last time. He reached out and grabbed her wrist. “I don’t have whores. I would never pay for sex. I took up your time. You’re a model remember?”

 

“Then what are you trying to do now?  I haven’t posed for you!” she shouted.  Her face was starting to get blotchy. He had seen her wear this face before.

 

“It doesn’t matter if you pose for me or not. It doesn’t matter if you sit for me or not. I am taking up your time. I will compensate you for it,” Ulquiorra fumed. He didn’t care if she was pissed off at him. “Why do you assume I have whores or I have a stable of women waiting for me?”

 

“That’s really not the point.  You have a reputation, and whether or not it is true has no bearing on what is happening right now,” she said as the first of what would probably be many tears streaked down her right cheek.  “You can buy someone else’s complacency.”

 

A scoff left his throat. It figured she would start crying. He shook his head. “I know I have a reputation, Orihime. That happens when you spend four years trying to replace someone.”

  
  
He didn’t have time to play these silly games with her. He told her what he wanted and if she wanted to believe the words of other people than that was her problem, not his. He never tried to lead those other women on. They had conned themselves into thinking it was more than just sex.

 

“What are you trying to say?”  She asked between sniffles.

 

He answered her question with, “Figure it out.”

 

She huffed.  “I think _you_ need to figure it out, Ulquiorra.  I’m not the one pretending to hire me only to throw me out after I say I am not here to sleep with you.  Whatever. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” She yanked her hand out of his grasp and turned around, taking a deep, strained breath as she reached the hallway leading to the door.

 

“I’m gonna text you again,” he called after her. Ulquiorra heard the door slam and winced.

 

***

 

He decided to give her time to cool down. So, Ulquiorra left her alone for a week. Then another week passed. He painted another three pieces in that time. Another triptych. A clawed black hand reaching out on one side. A pale feminine hand on the other and in the center they reached for a heart, that had black streaks running down the canvas in thick drips.

 

\- _You could have slapped me, you know. That’s what most women do when they see me again._

 

It was an off-handed assholish apology. A cop-out but if it got her to talk to him, it would do the trick.

 

She didn’t respond for two days. Finally, on the third day, a Saturday at 2:30 in the morning, she replied:

 

  * _i’M not mosst othr women, Dick._



 

She had been drinking quite a bit and had been harassed by guys on the prowl all evening.  She felt justice was owed to her, and she chose to mete it out to Ulquiorra.

 

He’d been painting again but this time it was something abstract. Instead of copper and turquoise swirls, it was angry black and white brushstrokes blending into gray with the same viridian color of his eyes streaking across the canvas. He picked up his phone and rubbed his eyes. Ulquiorra was tired but he wouldn’t sleep until this restless energy was spent.

He chuckled at the text.

 

\- _I could show you a dick. But I know you’re not like other women. How many other women could say they got kidnapped by a supernatural being? Go to bed, Woman._

 

The reply came about twenty minutes later.

 

  * _I am in bed.  How many other women have the supernatural mojo to rip your dickkkk of_ an them _restore it frm sratch?  That’s what_ i _thought, batm@n._



 

Batman? Batman? He glared at his phone. He’d seen that masked hack and thought he had nothing in common with him. He had expected a cool superhero and instead found a regular guy who wore tights and dealt with clowns. Hmph. What had happened to this woman to make her so caustic?

_\- If you rip it off then restore it, you need to kiss it to make it better._

 

Her reply was immediate.

 

  * _Gross, dude!_



 

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. “Like she hasn’t given head or fucked anyone before,” he murmured to himself before he climbed the ladder up to his bedroom. He shed his clothes and crawled onto the comfortable surface of his bed before rolling onto his stomach, propping himself up with his elbows.

 

_\- Do you want a dick pic? You should see it before you rip it off._

 

Again the reply was immediate.

 

  * _Ew!  No! Why would you think I would want to see it?_



 

He had a laugh at that. He knew he was trying to provoke her. What would really rile her up? Ulquiorra knew just want to do. He sent her a selfie. He was smirking in it.

 

_\- You’re the one who wants to rip it off._

 

Two could play at this game.  She took a selfie of her face half-buried in her pillow, her hair a wild mess all over it and her forehead and shoulder.  Only one eye was visible, and it glared in disapproval. She sent it along with the message:

 

  * _I do not, you big perv._



 

His eyes narrowed at the picture once it popped up. Why the hell did she look like she had a wild night? Ulquiorra’s jaw clenched. He could see a bit of black hair behind her. What was this woman playing at?

 

_\- You alone?_

 

She thought nothing of it.

 

  * _Oh_ , _that’s just Uryu.  Sometimes he has nightmares.  In no small part thanks to you, actually._



 

She was clearly starting to sober up.

 

Ulquiorra shook his head and made a noise of disgust at the device he held. It wasn’t his fault that Quincy boy had ended up in Hueco Mundo. It wasn’t his fault that the Hollowfied human had stabbed him. The dumbass had thought that thing had been able to have a coherent thought.

 

_\- I didn’t stab him but thanks for playing. That was all your boy._

 

The reply was immediate.

 

  * _He was never ‘my boy’.  I know you didn’t stab him. You did cut part of his arm off though._



 

Oh, he was done with this bullshit. He tapped her name and pressed the phone icon. If Orihime wanted to throw words around like that he wanted to hear her voice. So he waited as it rang.

 

She fumbled to answer, trying not to wake her roommate.  “Hello?” She whispered as she padded out of her room and shut the door.

 

“What do you mean he was never your boy? Didn’t you and Kurosaki fuck and celebrate after it was all over?” Ulquiorra asked not bothering to greet her. He was irritated and she had caused it.

 

“I mean what it sounds like, we were never attached in any way beyond classmates, really.  We never ‘fucked’. I’ve never ‘fucked’ anyone.”

 

He made a choked sound. What the hell did she just say? He must have been hearing things. He heard her wrong. She must have been talking about having sex or that making love bullshit. Okay, so she hadn’t gotten fucked yet. Ulquiorra rolled over onto his back. “I’m sorry about the other week,” he said, still unable to process her previous statement. “If you want to be friends, we can try that but my statement still stands.”

 

She was confused by his sudden mood shift.  “You want to be friends?” She asked in a guarded tone.

 

“I said we can try that,” he answered. Ulquiorra sighed. “You know what I am and who I am. You’ve listened to whoever was running their mouth about me. I’m not making any promises. I still stand by what I told you last week when you were here. Take it or leave it. I will compensate you for your time even if you sit for me or not.”

 

She sighed, but it sounded kind.  “You never have to pay me for friendship, Ulquiorra.  It was always yours for the taking.” She paused and chuckled softly, “I still charge 2000 yen per hour to sit for you, though.”  There was a smile in her voice.

 

“How much for you to sit on me?” He didn’t mean for that to come out. Ulquiorra found that his human brain was nothing like his Arrancar one. There were times he spoke before thinking things through.

 

“Argh,”  she groaned loudly.  

 

A voice in the distance could be heard whining, “Keep it down, Bitch!  I’m trying to sleep!”

 

Ulquiorra smiled at that. If she was gonna bother him, he’d bother her just the same. “What days are you free this week?” He asked. “And tell that asshole to shut up or I’m gonna come over there--” He stopped himself. There was nothing he could do.

 

“What are you going to do, Ulquiorra?”  She didn’t mean to say that in front of Uryu.

 

“What did you say?”  The Quincy’s voice was suddenly demanding and much less effeminate.

 

“Shit, I gotta go.  I’ll text you my availability,” she said, sounding suddenly professional as she ended the call.

 

Ulquiorra sighed and looked at his phone as he pulled it away from his head. Fuck. That dickhead Quincy and his horrible fucking timing. It was almost as bad as Yammy. He bit his lip and looked at the picture she had sent, saving it to his phone. Why did it feel like he had just gotten the woman into a shit load of trouble?


	5. You Could Become My Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are terribly sorry for the delay... Much adulting (JKR) and sleeping (EIV) was done yesterday. We forgot. XD

He didn't get a text that day. He didn't even get one the next day. Ulquiorra sat around moping while sitting at his desk, hand propping his face up. The frown seemed etched into his face. She had said she would text him. So why hadn't she?

 

Ulquiorra had this feeling like the tables had turned, and this was that thing called karma that came back to bite him on the ass. Was this how all those women felt waiting for him to text or call?

 

Tch. It was nonsense! It was bullshit.

 

Another hour passed and he decided to get out of his apartment. He was too annoyed with himself to stay inside any longer. After grabbing what he needed and locking his door, Ulquiorra walked down the twelve flights of stairs and onto the street. He didn't see why Orihime had complained. Those stairs weren't anything compared to the size of Las Noches. He could easily walk kilometers a day in the palace. Not that he could now. He was human.

 

He wandered to the trains and found himself standing in front of the fashion college a while later. He had no clue as to why he was there. He didn't know the woman's schedule. So he roamed around the area.

 

Uryu's scrutiny of Orihime had been intense. He was convinced that she had been having flashbacks again. She let him continue to labor in that belief, but it meant that he had been hovering all weekend, trying to get her to talk about her supposed mental trauma.

 

Yeah, she had seen some shit in her day. That's not what this was about though.

 

Finally, on Monday she got some much-needed relief from her overprotective friend. She went to her three classes and then spent a few hours in studio labs putting the finishing touches on a few patterns she had been retooling. An acquaintance popped her head in to say goodbye at around 4:30 in the afternoon and Orihime figured it was a good time to call it a day. She hadn't even had lunch yet.

 

She gathered her things and walked outside into the small paved courtyard in front of the impressive building, only to be faced with the cause of her current dilemma.

 

"Ulquiorra? What are you doing here?" She asked as she approached him quickly, trying not to draw too much attention.

 

He turned around when he heard her voice. "I was taking a tour of what seems to be your second home. You didn't text me," he replied. Ulquiorra felt he was being an idiot, but she had said that to him on the phone the night he had called.

 

"I'm sorry, Uryu has been hovering. He thinks I have been having flashbacks again," she accidentally admitted.

 

Ulquiorra's forehead wrinkled in concern. "You have flashbacks?" he asked.

 

"Well, yeah, but not for a couple of years now. I saw a lot of terrible things at a young age. Some of it you know about."

 

"I was responsible for some of it," he said glancing at her and then looking away. Ulquiorra sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause problems for you. I just-I needed clarification to your text."

 

"Don't blame yourself for everything, Ulquiorra. After you died, a lot of really horrible things happened. I'll admit, though, your death haunted me for a long time…" she looked far into the distance as she trailed off. A few seconds later her attention snapped back to the present. "Anyway, are you clear now?"

 

He gave her a nod. "I'm always free unless I have a show. I've not been able to paint since you hung up on me."

 

"Aw, I'm sorry. I swear I wasn't avoiding you on purpose. Anyway, let me get my calendar out. Actually, can we walk and talk? I'm starving."

 

"There's a noodle place around here. We could go there unless-" He stopped himself from saying another word. What was he doing? What was he thinking? He wasn't supposed to care about anyone, so why would he be offering to take her out… Unless it wasn't a date… Was it a date? More clarification was needed. "We can go there if you want."

 

She smiled. "Yes," she replied in a hungry tone. "I am dying for some kitsune udon!" She began to lead the way. When he didn't immediately follow, she doubled back and grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him along. "We are gonna want to get there before the dinner rush starts," she advised rather seriously.

 

Orihime was touching him. His brain screamed at him to do something. His senses were in overload mode. Why? He took a deep breath and plucked her fingers off his arm. "You can't touch me," he said, distancing himself from her slightly.

 

She gave him some dubious side-eye. "Okay…" she said. Didn't he keep bringing up ways he wanted to touch her sexually? Hadn't he kissed her, twice? Her cheeks began to turn pink at the memory. Well, she guessed it didn't matter anymore, he appeared to have given up that endeavor. It was just as well she supposed, and if he didn't want her to touch him that was his prerogative. She continued walking to the udon shop.

 

He followed along with her, noting her silence. She's the one who wanted to be friends. This was how it had to be. He could be friendly if she didn't touch him. "Would it help you out if you introduced me to your Quincy friend?" Ulquiorra asked.

 

Orihime's eyes widened, and she looked at Ulquiorra like he was absolutely nuts. "I doubt it…"

 

"Is he that resistant? Or would it cause more nightmares that would allow him to sleep with you?" The question sounded bitter.

 

Orihime caught his insinuation but ignored it. She rolled her eyes instead, replying, "He is… he is a broken person. He doesn't mean to be so… so…." she didn't know what she was trying to describe. Uryu was Uryu, and that was a gay man who let the memory of them getting a little physical in the past dictate that they needed always to be together. She knew it was only a matter of time before their relationship imploded. He always acted like he expected her to split at any minute anyway. It was making him clingy. That was the word. "Clingy."

 

The Quincy was clingy? That didn't make sense. Ulquiorra glanced at her. "Have you had sex with him?"

 

"No, I told you I haven't had sex with anyone." She didn't treat this as scandalous or shameful information. It just was what it was.

 

He squinted at her before turning the look into a scowl. There must have been something wrong with his human ears because he had to have misheard her again. "Woman, stop for a moment."

 

She obliged, stopping and turning her body slightly toward him so she could see his face.

 

"You're a virgin." It wasn't a question. He was stating the obvious as it sank into his brain.

 

"Yeah, it's not a big deal, okay? I mean I have fooled around a little bit, gotten a little handsy, but that's it. I've never been in a "relationship", so I just never had the opportunity. It's kind of a career hazard, actually."

 

He made that choked noise again. It was quiet, but it still came out. Now he felt like an absolute dickbag. Here he was spouting off that he wanted to fuck her and she had never had sex. This was just great. "I don't get it though. You say that you have only kinda been kissed? You're going to have to explain that to me because I'm not understanding." Ulquiorra looked at her, his expression serious.

 

She sighed. She knew her own expectations of what a kiss should be and what it should mean played into her own narrative relative to her experiences. "I need to explain my own ideas of what a real kiss is, I guess. To me, a real kiss is between two people who want to kiss each other because they want to specifically kiss _that person_ . Maybe it's an arbitrary definition, but that's how I feel about it. Every time I have been kissed it has been because the other actor just wanted to kiss somebody; anybody. I just happened to be in the vicinity," she paused, looking at him with some significance. She didn't want to say what she was thinking, which was that she hadn't been kissed "for real" until _he_ had kissed her.

 

"Sorry," he muttered. Ulquiorra bit his lip then frowned. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to do that to you. I wanted to kiss you. I can understand if you didn't want it."

 

She gave him a small smile. "Well, I'll admit, it was a good kiss," She let her smile turn into a grin. She wasn't lying. Her reaction both times was a testament to that.

 

He gave her a small smirk. "It should have been a great kiss. I've had enough practice. C'mon. I'm buying."

 

***

 

They spent a couple of hours in that noodle place talking. Well, Orihime did the talking, Ulquiorra mostly sat and listened to her go on and on about people she knew, her classmates, her roommate and other things he couldn't make sense of. He enjoyed their time together. They were about to leave when he got a call.

 

When he looked at his phone, he glared but said nothing while answering it. "Hello?"

 

"Murcielago-san… I've got great news for you." It was Armand Helden from the art gallery. He didn't even wait for Ulquiorra to reply. "I've got a buyer for one of your paintings."

 

"They were all sold, weren't they?"

 

He could hear the gallery owner huff. "I mean The Woman and the Moon. I've got an offer sitting on my desk for six million yen."

 

"No thanks. It's not for sale," Ulquiorra replied.

 

"What about four million for the other one… Uh… Midori-"

 

This made Ulquiorra angry, so he had cut off the man's question. "It's not up for debate. Neither of the paintings are for sale. I've told you this Armand. Good day."

 

He hung up the call then looked at Orihime. "Sorry. I won't sell the paintings in my loft. I constantly get offers for them."

 

Orihime remembered which ones he was talking about. "How come you won't sell them?"

 

"Because of you. They're the only things I had to remember you by. I mean, The Woman and the Moon I painted while you were a captive in Hueco Mundo. It just came to me one day that I needed to do it. I left Las Noches and came to the World of the Living. I took what I needed and then I watched you. I painted for hours, leaving your care up to other Hollows."

 

He cleared his throat as if talking about it made him uncomfortable which was true. The idea of manipulating her into coming with him never sat well with him. He'd been following orders. He was doing his job. "I came back to this place and put it somewhere safe."

 

She could scarcely believe her ears. "This is an incredible story, Ulquiorra. But it begs the question, why did you want to remember me? I was just a prisoner. A nuisance. Aizen's orders kept you out of the larger battles. I'm sure you were bored having to babysit a whiny, naive, useless little girl."

 

He shook his head. "I never liked fighting as an Espada. I told you that my powers weren't in my attacks. That was true. I could outwit all of them, Grimmjow played dirty."

 

"—I won't tell him you said that," she said, giggling.

 

"What do you mean? Is the Sexta alive?"

 

"Last I heard he was calling himself the King of Hueco Mundo. I had to go back there about two years after you died. Did Urahara tell you about the Quincy War?"

 

"No," Ulquiorra said. He thought back to that meeting four years ago. He remembered the man who hobbled and could only see out of one eye. "He wouldn't tell me anything about what was happening. He just gave me some documents that I could use and sent me on my way. He was the first person I had contact with who knew my background."

 

"Well, in that case, I'm glad you found him. Anyway, long story short, this big bad seemingly invincible Quincy killed the soul king and tried to destroy all dimensions. A lot happened. Grimmjow joined the shinigami in a "The enemy of my enemy is my friend" move. Nel came too. Anyway, the war was really bad. Kuronobody got supercharged, and I helped try to bring down the biggest bad guy, but in the end, it was Uryu who killed him, but since then we've all gone our separate ways except for Uryu and me."

 

There was a name he had not heard in years. He vaguely remembered the former teal-haired Tres Espada but never had any dealings with her or the blonde, Halibel. They were merely Espada who ranked above him. Ulquiorra had always answered directly to Aizen. "Kuronobody? Who is that?"

 

"You know, the pompous asshole who killed you?"

 

"Kurosaki? Do you dislike him now? What happened to that five lifetimes bullshit?" Ulquiorra asked. "Why so disenchanted with him?"

 

Orihime hung her head at the five lifetimes reference. "I almost forgot I had an audience. Anyway, let's just say that that kid ended up being a glory hound who never had the time of day for me or any of his friends. Then after he finally goes through puberty, he thinks he can just rock up to me and Uryu's place and proposition me. Not bloody likely!" She said, slamming her fist on the table and rattling their empty bowls.

 

He had to hold back a chuckle. "I practically did the same thing," Ulquiorra commented with a half smile, quirking up one side of his mouth.

 

"True, but you never exploited me for my power to advance your own agenda under the guise of affection. He was so manipulative. He just wanted me to be there to be a healer so he could be the big hero all the time. He never cared about what it might do to me. He never worried about how I felt or whether I could die in the process. At least you were always honest about your intentions."

 

What had been his intentions? To keep her there in Las Noches and defy Aizen's orders? He was supposed to let the intruders take the redhead back to Karakura, rescuing her. He was merely to protect Las Noches and hold down the fort. Instead, he had destroyed that throne room, parts of the dome of the palace and the First, Second, Third and Fourth Towers. He had probably even caused massive damage to Hueco Mundo with the Laz de la Luna he'd launched.

 

"Do you-Would you like to go back to my place?" Ulquiorra asked quietly. He wanted to tell her about the other painting. Suddenly the dark-haired painter felt self-conscious.

 

Orihime raised a single brow at him, suspicious of his motives. "What did you have in mind?" She asked carefully.

 

"You know, get drunk, fall into my bed naked… What do you think? I want to paint you," he said with an amused expression to mask the shyness he suddenly felt. He'd almost spilled the big secret about the second painting.

 

Orihime blushed hard, and bit down on her lip to suppress a giggle. "Well, my schedule is open tonight if you'd like to get some painting done." She waited for him to take the lead.

 

***

 

"Quit bitching," he teased as they climbed the stairs to his apartment. They were only on the seventh floor, and she was whining. "We could just go back to your apartment and get "handsy" as you put it."

 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she asked, exasperated. She was noticing a pattern with him. "Why does it seem like everything revolves around sex to you? I know you haven't been alive for _that_ long, but there are other things to think about, you know."

 

He stopped and looked at her. Ulquiorra had his theories why he wasn't exactly as he had been as an Espada. He had his suspicions as to why he cared about things like coffee, cigarettes and sex. This body and brain retained the vices of the last soul. Instead of giving her an answer he shrugged. "I'm male. You're female. I mean what else is there to talk about? You want to sit around and talk about nothing; about falling for each other. Tch."

 

She scoffed. "Well, that's not exactly what I had in mind, but most people think that topic is kind of a big deal. _Anyway,_ I meant things like interests, preferences, schedules… Dreams? Fears? Philosophy? Religion? ...Politics?" She sounded less and less certain as she continued her list.

 

"This body has only several things it's interested in, Woman. Art, sex, and stimulants," Ulquiorra stated. He continued to climb the next flight of stairs. "The only dreams I have are ones of Hueco Mundo and Las Noches."

 

"It sounds like a bleak existence. I hoped for more for you," she muttered between deep breaths.

 

Ulquiorra chuckled. "Like what? Did you expect me to bare my heart to you or tell you why I reached out to you?"

 

She shrugged one shoulder. "I don't expect I'll ever know the answers to those questions," she spared him a smirk before looking forward again and continuing. "It's your business, Ulquiorra. You can tell me whatever you want or not tell me whatever you want. I…" she didn't know what she wanted to say suddenly. Her heart ached a bit after what she had just said. Maybe she wasn't as ambivalent as she thought.

 

"Why did you reach out?" he asked after a few seconds of silence. He was mulling over her words. What did she expect out of him? "Was it guilt?"

 

"No," she admitted, and it sounded surprisingly vulnerable. "It wasn't guilt. I just wanted to… At the time I wanted to hold on to you, I think. I didn't want you to leave me." She sounded confused as she said it.

 

Ulquiorra didn't say anything for the rest of the way up. He didn't know what to say to her. Why in the hell would she want that after what he had done to her? Once they reached the only door at the top of the stairs, he unlocked the door, letting her enter the loft first. When he walked in behind her, closing the door, he didn't bother taking off his shoes. He just walked into the place and went over to his computer. He tapped on the spacebar, waking the computer up. "I'm going to take some pictures of you first, if that's okay," he said, making sure to block the view of the screen.

 

"Oh, sure. Um, should I keep my shoes on? Where do you want me to stand?" she asked, after getting over the initial shock at seeing him completely bypass the genkan.

 

"Either or, doesn't matter to me," Ulquiorra said, turning to look at her. He had forgotten to close the browser before he left. Orihime already thought he was a pervert; it wouldn't do to give her more concrete proof of that. "Why do you look so scandalized? What did I do now?"

 

"No, it's not that big of a deal, I mean, this is your place, it's just so ingrained in me to take my shoes off in the genkan, that it's an almost instinctual reaction to scream, "Take off your shoes!" if someone forgets," she laughed. "Anyway," she said as she entered the bright part of the main space. "Do you want me to stand here? Do you want me to pose or anything or just stand around looking like an awkward little weirdo? I'm told I do that just fine."

 

A smirk crossed his face. Ulquiorra walked over to where his camera sat on a trunk. "Maybe I like awkward little weirdos. Make yourself at home," he said, fiddling with the different settings and such. "I'm just taking reference shots so I can fix your nose later on Midori No Ai… Maybe do a couple of new paintings. Just be normal."

 

Orihime tried not to blush at the backhanded compliment. She decided to brush it off. "Normal is a relative word, don't you think?" She giggled and, not having anywhere to sit, stood in the center of the room, resting her weight on one foot and crossing the other over her ankle. She clasped her hands together in front of her and looked up at the skylight. "This is a nice space, Ulquiorra," she commented.

 

"It should be for how much I pay every month," he muttered with a snort. He brought the camera up to his eye and pointed it at her. The lens needed to be adjusted so he did that before pressing the shutter button. He moved around the woman taking pictures every few seconds. "What do you live in, a one-room apartment? Where do you live?"

 

"No, Uryu's a trust fund baby. We have a two-bedroom place," she sighed heavily. "It's a nice spot, but my time there is rapidly coming to a close. I'll be graduating soon, and my lease runs out soon afterward. I'd like to strike out on my own, or at least not with him," she said the last three words slowly, carefully and _quietly,_ as if Uryu might hear her if she said it too loud.

 

He decided to lay the perviness on thick. "I might be in the market for a roommate, but you'd have to either share the bedroom or _sleep_ with me," he commented. Ulquiorra tilted his head away from the camera and smiled at her before he was moving again.

 

"At this point, it might feel more normal to share a bed anyway," she muttered under her breath before rolling her eyes. "I thought you said you had your hands full?" she said, gesturing toward her own breasts like she was going to pick them up, then laughing at her own perceived cleverness. "I mean, I wouldn't want to cramp your style." She smiled then, looking directly into the camera.

 

Ulquiorra's breath caught in his throat as she looked directly at him. He was close enough that he put the camera on the desk. "You could become my style," he said walking up to her.

 

Now she did blush. She tucked her chin and looked up at him from under her lashes with an awkward, lopsided smile. "What are you trying to say?" she asked in kind of a kind of a cautious tone.

 

"I'm not trying to say anything, Woman. Just you could become my style," he replied. He wanted to reach out and touch her but didn't.

 

She raised her eyebrows. She couldn't tell whether he was being obtuse or clever. "Well, one day when I have my own brand, I could be your style; I suppose, but I haven't yet branched out into menswear." She answered as if that was all there was to it. She wasn't going to try to guess what he meant.

 

Shaking his head, Ulquiorra sighed. "Really? Really? Are you-Nevermind."

 

"What?" she asked, mildly offended. "You don't like my aesthetic?"

 

He continued to shake his head. "You're oblivious, aren't you? I've told you all this stuff, and you still don't get it." Ulquiorra turned and walked away from her, grabbing a sketchbook from the trunk and a pencil. He grabbed his computer chair and shoved it towards her. "Sit."

 

She did. The chair seat was a bit high for her and it rolled a bit as she tried to get situated. Her legs dangled off the floor. "I feel like a child," she complained quietly, not to him, just out loud. She finally brought her legs up and crossed them in a lotus position on the seat. "That's better," she murmured. "This ok, Boss?"

 

Ulquiorra turned around and stared at her. Did she just call him _boss_? That sent a funny jolt through him; one that he didn't like. It made him feel uncomfortable but turned on at the same time. "You wouldn't feel like a child if you were taller. You are rather short, Woman."

 

He had to keep himself in check.

 

"Yeah, tell me about it. I've heard that about a million times. You wouldn't believe the kinds of things people will say right to my face like it's not a big deal. "You're too short," "You look too young," "You're not commercial," "Your boobs are grotesque," "You belong in porn, not fashion," Ugh. I swear, Ulquiorra. I can be very discouraging."

 

Boobs? Porn? He had to bite down on his tongue to keep the first thing that came to mind from leaving his mouth. He practically threw the sketchbook and pencil down before he was over at the chair. Ulquiorra bent down and captured her mouth with his in an affectionate way. He had to hold onto the armrest to keep the chair from rolling. There was enough room for two people in the chair. He knew this.

 

Ulquiorra nudged her leg with his knee to get her to move them. Then he was sitting on her lap, kissing Orihime, cupping her face, tilting it up. He was the one to break that kiss too. "You're about perfect," he murmured to her before giving her another kiss.

 

She was in a cloud. Before she knew what was happening he had kissed her. It was soft. It was sweet. When he climbed into her lap, her heart melted into a puddle. It was the cutest thing ever, and if she had been capable of speech at that moment, she would have said, "Aww!"

 

But then, the kiss continued. She began to feel something different. This wasn't like Uryu's sad kisses or the meaningless, lacklustre dancefloor kisses. This was a real one. A really real one.

 

Now, what should she do?

 

Orihime was going to allow this? His brain went into overdrive at all the things that he could potentially get away with, but he had to remind himself that she was technically a virgin, no matter how many gay guys she had fooled around with. Ulquiorra moved his hands from her face, down her neck and to the outer curve of her breasts. They weren't grotesque. What person did not like a woman with more than a handful?

 

Throughout her short adulthood, Orihime had systematically desensitized herself to unwanted sexual advances. Uryu and his friends would never take it too far, she always thought, so she had become tolerant toward a lot of things that many other women would consider assault. She had frequently had her breasts groped, nearly as frequently as she had had a tongue shoved into her mouth. Her initial reaction to Ulquiorra doing it was the same as her previous experience. Tolerance.

 

But, this was not a gay club. This thought began to echo through her brain, and the idea that she might be tempting fate started to join it. Another thought joined: She was more than tolerating this. She was _enjoying_ it. Before she knew what she was doing, she whimpered.

 

The noise hit his ears. He had heard women moan and simper before him before. It was nothing new but, none of those women were Inoue Orihime. Ulquiorra pulled back slightly to look at her. He could never tell her how or what he felt. She would probably just laugh it off anyway. "Woman," he breathed.

 

Her complexion was rosy and her eyes were glassy and dilated as they met his, his own pupils nearly human-looking in their open state. She exhaled slowly in response to his utterance, her brow wrinkling slightly and her mouth relaxed. She just stared at his eyes, looking for an answer to a question she didn't know. Her head tilted slightly, and she smiled just a bit. She wasn't sure what had brought this on. Was it love? Was it lust? Was it affection? Was it loneliness? She understood those feelings. She felt connected to him. She picked up one of her hands and laid it on his chest. "There it is," she murmured, looking down at it and smiling a bit wider, before looking back up to his eyes.

 

His cheeks burned. Ulquiorra felt silly. He felt stupid. This woman had done something to his brain years ago that he couldn't shake off. That feeling of attraction; of fondness; of possessiveness intruded on those nihilistic thoughts years ago and infected him. He liked it though. Even as he was dying, he had reached out a hand to her, wanting her even though she was the indirect cause of said death. "Don't, Woman. I know what you're talking about; that heart bullshit. I've had a heart. It beats."

 

She inhaled slowly through her nostrils as she straightened her spine and pushed back against his chest gently. "Indeed it does," she responded, raising one eyebrow. The glow quickly faded from her cheeks, and she pursed her lips at Ulquiorra. "Don't do that again, okay? You're going to give me the wrong idea."

 

The moment was over. Of course, it was. He had said the wrong thing. He always said the wrong thing. He rolled his eyes as he stood back up. Ulquiorra looked down at her before he retrieved the sketchbook and the pencil he was going to use. The lead had broke. "Don't do what? What kind of wrong idea would I give you?" he asked as he looked through the cup on his desk for a sharpened drawing implement.

 

She groaned. "I should have taken you up on the ten thousand yen per hour thing; I'm not getting paid enough for this bullshit, Ulquiorra," she answered, leveling a wry smile at him. She wasn't angry. She was used to being led on; she had learned to take it in stride early on.

 

He sat down in front of the chair, glancing up at her. "You're the one who can't take a hint. I've been about as subtle as Yammy entering a room," he grumbled.

 

She chuckled at that. "That's true, I think you waited a whole three minutes after meeting me at the gallery before you told me you wanted to screw. I'm not oblivious, Ulquiorra. I know we have chemistry. That's not the issue," she said kindly. She was fine letting things simmer back down to a friendship if that was all he was willing to offer her. She was not going to let herself fall for him. She knew that it would hurt a lot if she did. He said so himself, hearts were bullshit.

 

"You're fucking blind," he muttered before looking up at her. He had to study her. Ulquiorra put the pencil down onto a clean page from the sketchbook and with light strokes began to draw what he wanted to paint. "You had to have known those two paintings were of you. You knew they were. Who else could have painted them and why would someone paint them?"

 

"I know they were of me. I don't know why you painted them. Why don't you tell me?"

 

Ulquiorra shook his head. Nope, he would never say why he painted them. He would never speak the words. He did it because he wanted her. He did it because he had fallen in love with her. He had done the paintings because he was in love with her. Glaring at her for a moment, he averted his gaze, back to what he was working on. "I've already told you in so many words," he replied.

 

"You may think so, but to me, you are a mystery," she said fondly. "You always have been. The way you speak sounds like riddles…." she paused and looked to the side, darting her eyes back and forth for a minute and blushing again, before looking back up at him in an embarrassed expression. "I take that back. Sometimes you are exceptionally blunt. But you know, I always liked that about you."

 

"Hypothetically, if I told you I cared for you or harbored feelings for you, what would you do?" He didn't look at her. He concentrated on sketching.

 

Her blush intensified. "I think I would probably be happy. I don't know what I would do, per se. Nobody has ever said something like that to me before."

 

"Remove the hypothetically then."


	6. Let Me Kiss You

_Remove the hypothetically?_ Was he confessing that he had feelings for her?  How could that be? After all this time?

 

“After all this time?” she whispered the thought aloud.

 

He remained silent. The only sound that came from him was the sound of the pencil on the paper. Ulquiorra wasn’t going to say anything. Why should he repeat himself?

 

She watched him as he scribbled on the paper.  He had a piece of hair tucked behind one ear. That visible ear was bright red. Her heart swelled.  “Ulquiorra? Can I say something, just once, and have you promise not to reject it or refute it?”

 

His head went up and down once.

 

He wasn’t looking at her.  This wouldn’t do. She stood up off the chair and knelt in front on him.  She lowered her head until it was at a lower level than his, so that if he chanced a look in her direction, she would be able to catch his glance.  She took a deep, steadying breath. “Ulquiorra, Thank you. Thank you for telling me the truth back then, thank you for believing in me. Thank you for saving my life and for stopping that useless shinigami.  Thank you for reaching out to me. Thank you for opening my eyes. Thank you for not deserting me. Thank you for coming back to life. Thank you for painting me—“ she couldn’t continue although she had a lot more to say; she had become too emotional.

 

Ulquiorra brought his head up. He heard her moving around but didn’t expect her to be this close to him. Her dark eyes were staring at him like she knew all of his secrets and would tell the world. He took a deep breath. On one hand, he could accept her gratitude. On the other, he wanted to brush her off and sweep it under the rug.

 

She was expecting him to be something he couldn’t be. That’s what every woman did to him. They expected him to be more than what he was. It was always, “Call me,” or “Text me.” But this wasn’t other women. This was _THE WOMAN_. The one he had been searching for since he found out he was alive and human again. He nodded. “I would have--Okay I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else but--” He leaned forward and touched her lips with his own, barely grazing them. “You’re welcome.”

 

She choked on a sob and wrapped her arms around his neck, careful not to tug his long hair.  He set his sketchpad aside, and she took the opportunity to crawl into his lap this time. She pressed her eyes into the top of his shoulder and cried.  After a few painful rasps, she apologized into his shirt. She made no move to let go though.

 

He rolled his eyes. She was always crying. Crying because her friends were hurt. Crying because she was leaving her boyfriend or whatever he was. Crying because people were dying. She had been human for a lot longer than he had been. He had become a Hollow at a young age. He’d been a Vasto Lordes for centuries before spending another as an Espada. He did what he saw other men do to comfort women and patted her back several times. “I’m gonna fuck up; I hope you realize that,” he said, his face close to her hair. “The soul that was in this body before mine...It was screwed up. Sometimes I do things that don’t make sense.”

 

Orihime sniffled and straightened up.  She hadn’t even gotten to the part of her speech where she confessed that she had never moved past his death or that she had harbored feelings for him, and now that he was alive, they had come back stronger than ever.  She _hadn’t_ said it yet.  Her pride was still salvageable.  She screwed up enough courage to smile at him.  She nodded. “I don’t know anything about that. I’m sure you’ll do what you need to do.  I’ll support you.”

 

Tch. She said that now but what about when he did the things he did? Could he give up his ways? He’d have to give up his ways if he wanted her. “You know those things that you’ve heard about me? They’re true, Woman. I’ve had women call me all sorts of nasty names. I’ve had women throw drinks at me. I’m referred to as an asshole; a fuck boy I think one woman said.”

 

She backed off his lap and climbed back into the chair, smiling the entire time.  Her makeup was a mess. “Wanna see something cool?” She asked.

 

“What?” he asked, looking up at her. His gaze was flat.

 

Her smile took a mischievous glint as she put a hand into the neck of her shirt and pulled at her bra strap, then came back out with a little blue trinket.  “I reject,” She whispered.

 

He couldn’t see anything except for the mess on her face, swollen eyes, smeared mascara, and all, fading from existence.  It was as if the whole thing never happened.

 

“There now,”  she said calmly after it was over, returning her clip to her bra.  “Thanks for listening to me babble. I have been holding onto that for a long time.  I won’t charge you for the emotional stuff,” she pulled some hair out of her face self consciously and laughed.  “You don’t have to worry about me taking what you said out of context. You have to be yourself, right? I accept you for who you are.  I hope you can do the same.”

 

Ulquiorra gave her a wary glance before he nodded. He didn’t know how to answer that. Ever since he came back to life, he hadn’t been himself. There had never been a previous need for the drugs; legal or illegal. There had been no craving for someone else’s body when he was a Hollow. Half the time as a member of the Espada, he didn’t even sleep. He had only drank that bitter tea that Aizen made them drink. He ate those nasty crisps that the Adjuchas that were enslaved in the kitchen prepared.  


“There’s nothing to take out of context. I said what I said. I meant what I’ve said,” he finally voiced.

 

“I know.  That’s why I said that.  I know you are unwilling to change yourself for me or anyone else,  and I accept it. I can offer you my unrestrained friendship,” she said with only a small squint of her eyes indicating that she felt any pain in saying so.  “You’re going to have to stop kissing me though, or I’m going to fall in love with you, and then we’d really have problems,” she said with a lame laugh. She then shook her head and smiled again.  It didn’t reach her eyes at all.

 

“You didn’t even have to kiss me for that to happen,” he stated as he picked up the sketchbook again. It only took a few seconds for him to realize what he had said to her. Ulquiorra’s eyes went wide, and his head snapped up to look at her.

 

She looked like her heart was being ripped out of her chest.  “You’re in love with me?”

 

Shit. He’d painted himself into a corner. He might as well tell her. It would be out in the open, and she would stop with this nonsense about hearts and shit. After about a minute, Ulquiorra nodded his head. He looked down at the drawing in his hands and sighed. “I thought it was obvious.”

 

She didn’t know how to feel.  “It wasn’t obvious. It isn’t obvious.  Perhaps our understanding of love is completely different.  To me, it means to care about someone more than you care about yourself.  You’ve told me in nearly the same breath that you love me and that you would, if we were together, fuck around on me.  It’s not obvious.”

 

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Just warning you,” he replied. Ulquiorra’s eyes flickered up to her face. “We--I understand if you can’t handle that.”

 

“Good, then I don’t have to explain it to you,” she said, turning her face away, bringing her knees to her chin and wrapping her arms around them.  She sighed. “It figures, doesn’t it?” She inhaled like she might say something else, but let the breath go in a heavy, defeated exhalation. She was letting go of him.

 

“You done for today?” He asked. Ulquiorra knew he had screwed up. This stupid human body with its idiotic brain and its damn beating heart. He got to his feet, placing the bundle of paper onto his desk. “If you don’t want to see me again, I can understand that too.”

 

Her answer was very quiet.  “I offered you my friendship, and I meant it.  I still mean it. I am tired though. I’d like to go home.”

 

Ulquiorra nodded and fished a ten-thousand yen bill out of his wallet and handed it to her. “Compensation, right? I took up a lot of your time today.”

 

She would have argued with him about the amount being too generous if she trusted herself not to break down if she spoke.  She bowed slightly as she took the money and put it in her pocket, then turned toward the exit.

 

***

 

A week passed.

 

He painted. He drew. He blended and smudged. Nothing came out right. The inspiration was there, but nothing was to his liking. This was probably retribution for what had happened with Orihime. Ulquiorra didn’t text her. He didn’t call her.

 

Another week passed.

 

He felt like a complete ass about it.  


What was he to do?

 

There was nothing that he could do. Orihime probably didn’t want anything to do with him. They would be friends. That was it. His phone vibrated on his desk, and he picked it up to look at the screen. Armand was calling. He dismissed the call.

 

If the gallery wanted to show his paintings, they would have to take the request to his agent like everyone else. Just that morning his guy told him that several people wanted interviews and audiences with him. A fashion designer was one; an art critic; some college students. He’d talk to the students but not the other two. He didn’t want to talk to anyone that wasn’t her.  


Another week passed, and he fell further into this funk. He went out with his neighbors, but he didn’t say much. He just watched them and brooded over Inoue Orihime. What was stopping him from reaching out to her? Hadn’t he already done that once? Granted he was a monster when he did it but still, he had taken the initiative then.

 

He could text her. They were just words. Words could be brushed aside. So he did just that, pulling his phone from his pocket.

 

_\- Been thinking about you._

 

It was lame, but it was the truth.

 

She had been pretty down and heartbroken after she left Ulquiorra’s place that night.  She didn’t have anybody to talk to about it; nobody except possibly Uryu would be able to understand the situation _partially_ , and there was no way she was telling him, especially now that he officially had a boyfriend.  

 

He was busier than ever.  Much to her relief, he had been spending more and more overnights with Markus.  It was nice having the place to herself, and after her encounter with Ulquiorra, she didn’t want to have to fend off any unwanted hands.  She was officially done with that nonsense. It wasn’t until after she experienced real affection from Ulquiorra that she realized how much the superficial physicality she had been participating in hurt her.  It had made her feel like an object.

 

Ulquiorra didn’t make her feel like an object.  He didn’t make her feel loved, either, but he did make her feel special.  That was something she had never felt before. Despite being objectively and unequivocally special, she never _felt_ it.  And even though he had disappointed her and left her aching, Ulquiorra seemed to have been honest.

 

She hadn’t had too much time to brood over it though; she had been busy too.  Uryu had set her up to work with Markus for his winter collection as Aki had suggested.  Orihime spent a good deal of time when she was not at school or working over at Markus’ studio for fittings and tailoring.  The garments had to be rebuilt to suit her particular body shape. It was a challenge that Markus both welcomed and reviled.

 

She was standing on a pedestal, wearing a long dress with a train, full of what had to be 6,000 stick pins, when she received a text.

 

Her heart raced when she saw it.  “Been thinking about me? Tell me about it,” she said out loud as Markus’ assistant ignored her.  

 

She wrote back:

 

  * _Same._



 

Sitting in that booth surrounded by people he didn’t really like, Ulquiorra looked at Orihime’s text. He bit his lip before frowning at his screen. She had been thinking of him? It was probably nothing good. That one word could fuck him up. He wouldn’t let it, but it had that potential.

 

Maybe if he called her, things would be better explained but what could he say to her? That he’d changed his ways? It would be a lie. Even though he was stressing out over her, he still had sex with two unknown women since Orihime left his loft. He hadn’t stopped his fuckboy ways, but he significantly reduced the quantity.

 

_\- Thinking anything good about me or is it all bad?_

 

Her reply came a few short moments later.

 

  * _I have been thinking the same thing I’ve thought about you for the past six years.  I miss you._



 

Oh man. Oh, fucking man. Ulquiorra had been expecting some bullshit answer. The woman wasn’t trying to sugarcoat anything. She hit him harder than any of the Espada had in his lifetime.

 

_\- Free tonight? Later? I want to see you, Woman._

 

She raised her eyebrows at his response.  She didn’t expect him to be so eager. She asked Markus’ assistant about the status of the garment she was working on.   The prognosis wasn’t good.

 

  * _Not likely.  I’m bound by a thousand needles right now, lol.  I’m doing a fitting for Markus.  His assistant assures me we won’t be done until well into the morning._



 

His lip curled into a sneer but he quickly hid it with a scowl. Ulquiorra excused himself from the group and left the place they had gone to, walking toward his apartment building. Who the fuck was Markus? Why was she around needles? Why would an assistant tell her she wouldn’t be done until morning? He sighed with disgust, hoping Orihime hadn’t been stupid and done something like gotten a deal for some porn.

 

_\- Wtf is Markus? What kind of fitting? Why won’t you be done until then?_

 

“He seems awfully curious,” she said aloud again, expecting to be ignored this time.

 

  * _Markus is a designer.  A rather big deal up and coming designer.  He’s also Uryu’s new boyfriend :) I’m being fitted for an evening gown of some sort, all I know is that it’s black and super heavy.  There are a zillion stick pins in it so they can fit it to my big ass. That’s why it’s going to take so long :/_



 

Ulquiorra shook his head. “There isn’t a thing on her that is big except her tits,” he mumbled to himself.

 

_\- Your ass isn’t big. It’s quite nice. Almost perfect, remember?_

 

She rolled her eyes.

 

  * _Such a charmer you are.  Anyway, if I’m “almost perfect”, what are my flaws?_



 

He chuckled as he walked.

  
  
_\- RBF. The way you kiss me. Your complaints about 12 flights of stairs._

 

She scoffed.

 

  * _I’ll have you know that RBF is an asset in this industry!  I have never kissed you, btw. You’re right about the stairs though._



 

“She never kissed me. What a load of bullshit.” Ulquiorra glared at the phone as he quickly tapped out a message.

 

_\- Nope? We never kissed? Must have been my imagination then. But that’s a flaw._

 

She sighed.

 

  * _I never said we never kissed.  I said I never kissed you.  You kissed me plenty of times, lol._



 

Ulquiorra was rendered speechless for a moment. She had him there. She definitely had him there.

 

_\- So come over after your done and do it? LOL. Serious tho._

 

She hated herself for swooning.   _Hated_.  She knew that if she was going to be friends with him, she was going to have to learn to navigate his flirty behavior.  

 

  * _As tempting as that sounds there is absolutely no way.  I meant what I said last time._



 

A groan left him. So she didn’t trust him, or she was still iffy about the whole thing.

 

_\- Fine then, let me kiss you. We’ll get drunk, fall into my bed and I’ll seduce you with my lips. lol, jk. I want to see you sometime this week if you’re free._

 

She whined.  This wasn’t fair.  Since their first meeting at the gallery months ago, she had been nurturing a crush on Ulquiorra that was currently the size of Mt. Everest.  It wouldn’t take much for him to woo her and subsequently, and according to him, inevitably, break her heart. Nope, she had to nip this in the bud.

 

  * _Unwise I think.  I told you that if you do that, I’ll fall in love with you and we can’t have that, right?  ;) I’m not what you want. But, I’d be more than happy to meet up for coffee or to go out or something if you’re up to it._



 

How was it that six years after his death, this woman still managed to frustrate him? How? She had only been in his life for a couple of months, and yet, he was itching to touch her. He had almost done it inside of Las Noches, but his fingers had hovered scant millimeters from her.

 

_\- We could have that. You could be my style, remember? I need a reason for brand loyalty. I’ll take you up on the coffee though._

 

Her blood pressure spiked when she read his message.  Was he saying what she thought he was saying? That he _wanted_ her to be in love with him?  That he was willing to offer her loyalty?  She needed to breathe. The weight of the skirt pinned to her body was not helping things.  She fanned her face with her hands and blew deep breaths out of her mouth. Finally calmed down about five minutes later, she responded:

 

  * _Coffee it is then.  I’ll need it tomorrow.  You free?_



 

He was going to try this out, but he had an inkling that there was a good chance he was going to fuck this all up. Ulquiorra could feel it in his bones.

 

_\- Sounds good. I’ll carry you up to my apartment since you’ll be drained of energy from carting around the Quincy’s boyfriend’s rags. Text me when you get here._

 

Huh?  Had she missed something?  

 

  * _are you saying you want to make me coffee?_



 

His reply came a couple of moment later.

 

_\- I can make coffee, and I can cook. But if you think Ima poison you, we can go out._

 

She laughed.  

 

  * _You cook?  Anything good?  Got a specialty?_



 

Ulquiorra thought about it for a moment. The only things he knew how to make especially well were enchiladas and French toast.

 

_\- Uh, not really. I try my hand at everything. I can follow recipes tho. You know while I was spying on you, you cooked some really weird shit._

 

So he had been talking big.  Figures. She smirked when she read his assessment of her cooking.

 

  * _I still do cook weird shit.  It spreads the groceries out further that way.   Anyway, I will probably crash til about 11 or 12 tomorrow if you want to meet up sometime after that.  Any ideas?_



 

Should he? Shouldn’t he? Ulquiorra was on the fence, but he decided that if he was going to get anywhere, he needed to take some risks.

 

_\- You can come sleep in my bed. No one will slip in beside you. I promise._

 

Again her blood pressure was being problematic.  She didn’t wait to calm down this time.

 

  * _Huh?  Trying to relieve our good ol’ Hueco Mundo days?  Wanna watch me sleep? Weird hobbies, guy. Truly weird.  You know, if this goes til really late, like say after 9 in the morning, I may take you up on it for a little bit.  Markus’ place is a lot closer to yours than it is to mine. I think I’m already technically in Koenji._



 

Ulquiorra was surprised she was even going to consider it. He’d change his sheets just in case she did.

 

_\- Old habits die hard, Woman. I liked watching you sleep. It was my favorite part of the day._

 

  * _I bet.  It was the only time I shut up.  Lol._



 

_\- Except for when I threatened to tie you down and force things down your throat._

 

The dark haired man smirked, but it quickly faded. That may have been too much.

 

She shuddered at that memory.

 

  * _Yeah, thanks for that lovely memory.  Keep it up, and you may have a memory of your own to revisit:  the sting of my hand as it cracks across yo face! Boom! (Mic drop)_



 

Tch. This woman didn’t scare him. The only reason she got to slap him the first and ONLY time was because of the fact that, a.) he was unprepared for it and b.) had he not turned his head, she probably would have broken her hand on his Hierro.

 

_\- Bring it Tiny._

 

***

 

Orihime didn’t get finished with her fitting until nearly ten in the morning, and she was absolutely knackered.  Dead on her feet. Exhausted. After Markus’ assistant got her out of the gown and she changed back into her skirt and buttoned top, she took out her phone.

 

  * _Dude, you up?  Tiny is tired…_



 

Ulquiorra had been dozing in his bed. He had woken up earlier but just laid there drifting in and out of sleep. He felt the vibration on his chest and picked up the phone. It was Orihime. He sighed. He should have directed her to go home. She didn’t need the stress of him being in her life.

 

_\- I’m up in more ways than one. ;) You here already?_

 

She was too wiped out to be offended.

 

  * _Your problem, not mine.  On the way. ETA 7 minutes.  Not including stairs._



 

He laughed as he got out of bed and pulled on some sweats and a solid color t-shirt. Ulquiorra didn’t think that answering the door naked would have gone over well. After climbing down the ladder, he walked over to where his shoes and keys were, grabbing both of them before he put the footwear on and then exited the apartment. He didn’t really need to lock the door since he was just going downstairs but still, Ulquiorra felt better doing it.

 

Once he was halfway down the 12 floors, he texted her back.

 

_\- It could be your problem. Did you want coffee or food first? Or just sleep?_

 

She was about halfway there when she got his text.

 

  * _Um, maybe sleep, lol.  But do you have any booze?  I may need a drink to settle down.  I’m coming up on a Lawson though._



 

He twisted his mouth in a grimace. He didn’t have any alcohol in the loft. He only drank socially. This body could pick up addictions easily.

 

_\- Pick up something for yourself. Ain’t got shit here except coffee and water._

 

She read his text and replied as the automatic doors opened and a chime played on her way into the convenience store.  She replied,

 

  * _Do you want anything?_



 

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow as he walked into the lobby of his building. He didn’t care if she was tired. He was going to be his new self. The one she expected.

 

_\- You._

 

She was deciding between a cheap bottle of wine or some premixed vodka thing when her phone chimed.  She read and pursed her lips.

 

  * _Do they teach you how to make come-ons at every opportunity at artist college?  Last call, I’m almost done here._



 

He shook his head at her text. She was frustrating him, but it was to be expected. At least he planned on it. He basically bared his heart to her and had told her that he’d probably fuck around on her. She said, friends. She could absolutely shoot him down.

 

_\- I’m fine._

 

She smirked as she paid for her 300 yen bottle of Mon Frere Dry Red and read his text.  Had she bested him? Well, then it was time for the finishing blow.

 

  * _Yeah, you are._



 

Ulquiorra left his building and went outside, it was light outside, but he couldn't care less. He could feel himself becoming disgruntled. Yeah, he was? What the hell did she mean by he was fine? He had never heard of this term before in the four years he’d been alive.

 

_\- Whatever. I’m outside waiting for you._

 

His downstairs neighbor saw him and offered him a cigarette, Ulquiorra thought he was going to need it for the upcoming encounter, so he took it. It might make him less nervous.

 

Orihime came around the corner a moment later and saw him with a cigarette in his mouth.  She didn’t know he smoked. He looked kind of hot doing it. He was facing his neighbor as she crept up to his side.  “Can I have a drag?” She whispered slightly behind him.

 

The Novelist, as Ulquiorra knew him as, was talking about his new story he was working on or something. All the dark-haired man did was basically nod and smile. He heard her voice and turned his head giving her a side-eye glance. “What?” He asked, after removing the lit cigarette from his mouth, moving so he could look at her better.

 

“I asked if I could have a drag,” she said in her normal voice.  “Oh, first things first,” she said, bringing the bottle up and twisting the screw-top off, then taking a long sip.  “There. I only smoke when I’m drinking.”

 

He licked his lips and then held out the cigarette to her. “Huh,” he stated. Ulquiorra could not believe that goody-two-shoes Inoue Orihime drank, smoked and kissed gay guys. “You look like death warmed over. That dickhead shouldn’t keep you so late.”

 

She ignored him in favor of the cigarette, taking a long drag and passing it back to him, still inhaling as she did.  Then she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, smiling at the end. “That was just what I needed.” She opened her eyes and looked at him with an unimpressed expression, finally responding, “thanks a lot.  I call you fine, and I get “death warmed over”. Really nice,” she looked around Ulquiorra to make eye contact with the novelist and said, “Would you get a load of this guy?” She said, pointing at the artist with her thumb.

 

“I know exactly what you need,” Ulquiorra muttered. He finished the smoke before stubbing it out and putting it into the receptacle by the building’s door. “You ready to go up?”

 

She screwed the top back onto her wine bottle and nodded.  “After you.”

 

Ulquiorra wasn’t rude, and he bid his neighbor farewell before opening the door for her. He went in after her and said, “You can walk six floors then I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

 

She laughed.  “You seriously think you can carry me up six flights of steps?  You’re not an Espada anymore. And you’re a smoker. I may be “tiny”, but I’m not exactly light.”  She smiled at him. “I’ll do my best, and if need be you can drag me,” she laughed again.

 

“I am not familiar with this term fine.” Ulquiorra looked over at her as they began to climb the stairs. “What does it mean?”

 

“Oh, like how I said it before?  It means you’re attractive.” She said it like it was obvious and not an admission.

 

“You think I’m attractive? Nice,” he commented. Ulquiorra started laughing. “I only smoke once in a while. It’s not an everyday thing. This body… It does weird things.”

 

“I’ve always thought you were attractive.  How else did you think you could lure a sixteen-year-old girl to the depths of hell?”  She laughed at her own joke. “Anyway, what kind of weird things?”

 

Ulquiorra told her. Maybe she could make sense of it. “I woke up with a needle in my arm. I had a need for coffee and other drugs. This body wants sex. I had no need for any of that as an Arrancar. I thought souls were supposed to be born into infant bodies, not fully grown males who OD’ed in a crackhouse.”

 

She grimaced.  “That’s nasty. Sorry, Ulquiorra, that had to be an awful way to wake up.” She paused and studied him for a minute.  “Do you know anything about the guy this body used to be?”

 

He shook his head. “All I know is that this body likes things I had no interest in as a Hollow. ”

 

“No interest at all?” She asked with a sly smile before continuing, not giving him a chance to respond.  “Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but it sounds like you were born addicted to drugs, so make sure you stay away from them.  As far as the sex thing goes, you are a lot more aggressive than some guys, but there are plenty just as bad as you. In fact, that orange headed dipshit makes you look like a monk,” she paused to breathe, the stairs making her winded.  “Anyway, you aren’t a hollow now, you’re human, and you’re going to have human instincts. We all do. We just have to deal with them.”

 

He opened his mouth then shut it again. He could have answered her question but what was the point. She wouldn’t listen to him anyway. “I have stayed away from them. Now it’s mostly coffee all day. I drink and smoke whenever I go out. I don’t make it a point to go out often.”

 

“That’s right!  I saw you out that time ages ago.  Uryu said I was imagining things, but I was sure it was you.  Why didn’t you talk to me? You were staring enough.”

 

“That was really you?” Ulquiorra scowled as they reached the seventh floor. “I thought it looked like you. I thought there was a resemblance but--Why would I talk to you? Besides you had that guy practically fucking you in the middle of the place.”

 

“That guy was Uryu.  He is no more likely to fuck me than Santa Claus,” she said giving him a heaping dose of side eye.

 

He returned the glance before he stopped walking, standing on the step. He had to know. He needed to know what she intended. “Stop for a second. What do you want, Woman? I need to know in plain speak what you want.”

 

She was grateful to stop, bending over with her hands grasping her bare thighs and huffing out heavy breaths.  “What do I want about what?” She asked after a minute, tilting her head sideways to see his face.

 

“You. Me. Us. What do you want? You can’t keep saying shit like that and not expect me to respond to it.”

 

“Shit like what?  I’m just making conversation.”

 

His scowl deepened and he narrowed his eyes. “What about Kurosaki? You were all about him back then. How likely is he to fuck you?”

 

She scoffed.  “Well, I think if he had his way he would have already.  It’s never gonna happen though so he can keep looking,” she said bitterly.

 

Ulquiorra tilted his head and looked at her. “What about me? I want to know what you want from me.”

 

She moved her eyes off of his face and blushed.  “I, um, I just want to see how it goes, I guess.”

 

“You--Okay, fine,” he grumbled. “Let’s go. I’m sure you’re tired.”

 

“I am tired, but I don’t want you to be upset with me.  What do you want me to say, Ulquiorra? ‘Oh yes, I’ll just throw all caution to the wind and walk straight into certain heartbreak?’  I have to look out for myself. Nobody else will.”

 

“I’m not upset. I’m not expecting you to do that. Why should I give up my life when you can’t tell me why I should?” Ulquiorra gave a growl of frustration. “I have done nothing but search for you for the past four years. Urahara wouldn’t tell me shit about you. I’ve tried replacing you, and that didn’t work. You don’t get it do you, Woman?”

 

“Enlighten me,” she demanded.  It was a challenge.

 

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “It won’t make a difference.”

 

“How do you know?  It might.” Her lack of sleep was having an effect on her filter.

 

“I told you the last time you were here I had fallen in love with you and all I got was thanks, and we can’t do this because I’ll break your poor fragile heart,” Ulquiorra snapped. Without warning, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. It didn’t take him long to reach the top floor, and when he did, he was winded. He put her down before unlocking his door.

 

She yelped when he picked her up like a caveman.  He moved a lot quicker than she would have thought possible and she found it hard to breathe in her position, so she kept quiet until they got inside his place.

 

He took off the trainers he was wearing before he walked into the other room. He was angry, not at her but at himself for saying anything to her about what he felt. It wasn’t her business. She probably felt sorry for him. The poor lost soul that didn’t go to hell and got stuck in an addict’s body. Ulquiorra crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.

 

She watched him stomp away and worried about what to do.  Should she leave? She certainly didn’t feel welcome anymore.  Quietly she took off her low heels and padded over to his kitchen, setting her bottle and purse on the counter,  before looking up and around the space. She saw him standing in front of a window with his back to her. “I’m sorry my heart is fragile.”

 

“Humans are fragile. I’ve learned that. There are glasses on the shelf out there,” he replied, not looking at her. Frankly, he was tired of all of this. He’d been chasing her for years. Why had he expected her to just fall for him?

 

“Yeah, I’m not really in the mood for this anymore,” she said.  She wasn’t being petulant or dramatic. Her stomach was roiling.  For whatever reason, she crumbled at his disapproval. She unscrewed the bottle and brought it to the sink, turning on the faucet, and started to pour it out slowly, trying not to splash everywhere.

 

He turned his head to look at her and what she was doing. She was throwing a fit; that’s what it seemed like to him. She was being a brat. “You know you have a strange sense of friendship, Woman,” Ulquiorra said.

 

She furrowed her brows.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  You keep thinking you are dropping obvious hints about whatever you’re thinking but I don’t know you well enough to know what they are.  I’m tired too, so my mental capacity is not working on all cylinders. To me, it sounds like you just want to keep me guessing all the time only to say, “Ha!  You’re wrong!” She paused to fill the empty bottle with water and a bit of soap to rinse it. “I’m so tired,” she murmured, more to herself than him. She vaguely regretted taking him up on his offer to come over, but the alternative at this point seemed impossible.  She wouldn’t even make it down the stairs.

 

He wasn’t being subtle. Ulquiorra had never been subtle. “I’m about as subtle as a brick through a window. You let your Quincy friend sleep with you and appear to almost have sex with you in public. You could have told me to fuck off, but every time I kiss you, you allow it. Why would you sleep in the bed of someone who wants to dick you down?”

 

She was frustrated.  She was tired. She was sick of his ‘woe is me’ bullshit.  “I dunno, Ulq, maybe I wanted to get dicked. Maybe I wanted to get to know you.  Maybe I wanted to give you a chance. Maybe you’ll never know unless you stop assuming what I’m thinking and JUST FUCKING ASK!”  She whined the last part shrilly, too sleepy and delirious to self-censor.

 

“C’mon woman. The bed is up there.” Ulquiorra moved towards her and took Orihime’s hand and led her into the studio then pointed at the ladder. “If you need a shirt or something look in the dresser up there. I’m going to paint.”

 

She sighed and looked to the ground briefly. Then she looked up at him with a mixture of gratitude, embarrassment, and leftover frustration.  “Thank you. I’ll apologize for being a bitch later,” she half smiled, then started pulling herself up the ladder.

 

When she got up there, she did look through his drawers.  The top one had socks and boxer briefs, and she grabbed a pair, then opened the second drawer and found a t-shirt.  She peeled her clothes off and redressed. She was asleep on top of the covers before her head hit the pillow.

 

He could hear her going through his shit. He didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t like he kept souvenirs of his trysts with other women. Ulquiorra knew what safe sex was. Urahara gave him all kinds of information about the World of the Living. He’d gotten tested for STIs. He made sure he always brushed his teeth. He was somewhat cordial to people he felt deserved it. He set up his workspace and turned on a morose instrumental piece before he got to work.


	7. She Followed Her Instincts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EIV: Hi! Sorry, this is late. I know that last week was late but that's because I had a birthday party to plan and prepare for. One of my spawnlings leveled up! This past Friday was my own birthday (I am OLD :|). I took a spontaneous trip! I decided to treat myself to the one thing I wanted this year.  
> JKR: Oh dear. Here it comes.  
> EIV: **I MET JKR IN PERSON!** I was excited! And scared! And and and--  
>  JKR: Yes, yes, and there was sushi and gift exchanges but shhh, really, they don't need to know all the sordid details.  
> EIV: IT WAS AWESOME. I also got a tattoo of Ulquiorra's Hollow hole with his Espada number inside of it. I couldn't put his 4 where it is supposed to go. I already have a tattoo on the left side of my chest.......... So yeah... That's why it's been late. Hopefully, we will be back on schedule with the chapters again soon!

 

Hours passed before Ulquiorra peeked into the loft once to see Orihime’s round ass on his bed. He really hated life. He did. He was an absolute glutton for punishment. What had he expected when he poked his head up there? As quietly as he could, he climbed the rest of the way up and frowned. She was wearing his clothes. Awesome.

He’d have to burn that shirt and the other stuff she had taken. There was no way he was going to drive himself crazy by keeping it. With a sigh, he flipped the blanket that was folded at the end of the bed over her and then sat down on the edge.

 

This was just like it was back in Hueco Mundo. He’d enter her room while she was asleep and stare at her or he’d watch her from the monitors. Not that she did much. Occasionally, she’d twitch or whimper. A couple of times, she had called out but it had been nothing major. She looked as beautiful as she did back then. Maybe her face was a bit more mature or her frown more prominent.

 

She wasn’t the same girl he had kidnapped years ago. He reached over with a pale hand and brushed some hair off her face.

 

She hummed softly at the gentle touch at her brow and reached for it, finding fingers and threading her own through them, then pulling both her hand and his up under her chin and dozing off again.

 

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow at her, although she couldn’t see it. He stayed there for a moment or two before he reached with his other hand to pry her fingers off his. This would be really awkward to explain once she woke up. It was better if he untangled himself as fast as he could.

 

She felt the tug at her fingers and her brow wrinkled as she groaned in protest.  “Come back,” she murmured. She opened her eyes and saw worried green ones peering back at her.  She gave him a lazy half smile and closed her eyes again. “Really, Ulquiorra, I’m not going to bite.  I’m sorry about snapping at you earlier.”

 

“I deserved it,” he stated. He gave a sigh. “Scoot over. You’re in my spot.”

 

She grinned and shimmied toward the opposite edge of the bed.

 

He lied. He slept in the middle of the bed but it was cute how she made room for him. Once he got himself situated, lying on his back, Ulquiorra tugged on her arm. “Get back over here, Woman.”

 

She chuckled and rolled into his chest, letting one arm stay under her head and the other fall over his side.  She inhaled. His scent was not what she had expected.

 

A mixture of eucalyptus and cedar, with maybe a hint of something like clean leather and sandalwood.  It smelled subtle and luxurious and fresh. She needed more of it. She brought her nose closer and took an obvious, enthusiastic sniff.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a confused expression on his face. “I shouldn’t stink. I took a shower.”

 

“I wouldn’t be doing this if you stunk.  Is this some kind of soap or cologne? It’s amazing.”  She didn’t look up but kept taking deep breaths through her nose and holding them, trying to identify, analyze and memorize the fragrance.

 

“Uh, it’s shampoo and conditioner and soap. I get it online.” Ulquiorra was a little weirded out whenever someone mentioned how he smelled.

 

“Well whatever you do, keep getting it,” she said, adding an unintelligible vocalization that sounded appreciative.  “Seriously,” she said in a tone that was perfectly serious as well.

 

The way she was burying her face into his body and clothes was making him aroused. He didn’t need that right now. “You want me to get you some of it so you can carry it around in your bag? Whenever you miss me you could pull it out.” He was teasing her.

 

She pulled her head up to look him in the eyes.  “Yes, please!” she responded, nodding enthusiastically.  “I…” She paused and then propped her head up on the elbow that had been under her head so she could look down at his face.  “I would pay you back, of course,” she said with a shy tone, her cheeks slightly flushed and brushing some of his long hair off of his neck.  It looked uncomfortable. She absently wondered why he kept it so long, then paused. There was a mark on his neck. Was that—? “Is that a tattoo?” she asked, surprised.

 

He did not like people playing with his hair. It must have come from his days as an Arrancar because one side of his head, the hair moved freely; the other side, not so much. It bothered him when people even touched his head. Ulquiorra lifted his head pulled those long black locks from under his head and back then turned to look at her.

 

Why would she ask that--Oh… Ever since he knew Orihime in this lifetime, he had managed to completely cover himself from neck to wrists. “Yeah. I’ve got a lot of tattoos,” he answered and then quickly covered the one on his neck with his hair again.

 

Oh.  Oh. Oh was that how it was going to be?  He was going to play coy? “How many?” she asked, excited to learn more.

 

“Around twenty. I get a couple every time I sell some paintings.” Ulquiorra frowned at her. There was no way she was even going to see the ink he had. He might reveal one or two of them but that was it.

 

“So…  Ulquiorra…” she started, looking at the sheet and tracing a figure eight into the surface as she stalled.  “...are you going to tell me why you have the kanji for _Princess_ on your neck?”

 

“Why do you think?” he replied. Ulquiorra sat up on the bed and swept his hair to the other side of his neck. “Get an eyeful of it if you want.”

 

She was excited.  She had known people with tattoos before, obviously.  Renji was covered with them. Ulquiorra had one when she was first taken.  But this was the first time she was invited to take a close look. And she took full advantage. She rose up on her knees and brought her hands to his shoulders to steady herself as she peered at his neck.  She hummed as she admired it. “I like it,” she said noncommittally.

 

He had to refrain from rolling his eyes at her statement. He didn’t get the tattoos he had to see if other people would like them. Each of the pieces of art on his body meant something to him. Ulquiorra shook his head and let his hair fall back into place. “So why do you think I have it?”

 

“Well, I have two ideas.  One is very self-important and the other is a bit funnier.  Which do you want to hear?”

 

“Both? The self-important reason first, though,” Ulquiorra replied. Without warning, he dragged Orihime into his lap and gave her a smirk. “Then you can tell me the funny one.”

 

Her face quickly colored and she swallowed hard.  Her mouth was dry, and when she tried to speak, her breath caught in her throat.  “Ahem, well, uh, the self-important reason is pretty self-explanatory, you got it to remind you of me?” she said.

 

He nodded. “The funny reason why you think I got it?”

 

“You think of yourself as the prettiest royalty?”

 

He scoffed and did it loudly. Ulquiorra glared at her but he didn’t put any malice behind it. “I got it because of you. All the tattoos I got because of you… Except for three of them but that’s due to the fact that I read this book and the passage kind of stuck with me.”

 

“What book?” She was totally curious; she wanted to know everything.

 

“A stupid poetry book; had a cat, an owl, and a boat. Some guy was reciting poetry one night and it kind of stuck with me. I bought the book and read it,” Ulquiorra said then licked his lips. He could feel his face and ears getting hot. He’d never told anyone so much about himself in either of the lives he had led.

 

“I know that poem, I think.   _The Owl and the Pussycat_ , right?  I love that one,” she beamed at his pink cheeks.  He was being adorable. “Can I see them?”

 

“No. Maybe one of these days you might but the only time I show off my tattoos is if I’m getting naked,” he stated.

 

She raised her eyebrows and tsked.  “Oh is that so? And here I thought I was seducing you?”

 

He mimicked her expression. “I’ll show you the ones that don’t require me to take my clothes off.” Ulquiorra pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and held his arms out. On his right arm, there was a small heart shape on his hand between his thumb and index finger. The other tattoo on that side was the blacked out shape of the hilt of Murcielago. Then he had an origami paper boat colored with pea-green ink near his elbow.

 

The other arm had a cross on the side of his hand, the bat tattoo near his wrist and then some wicked looking script on his forearm. It spelled out, _“Luz de la Luna”_.

 

Her eye traced the shapes and letters marking his skin.  Each of these seemed to hold great significance to him. “These are really quite beautiful, Ulquiorra,” she said softly as she admired them.  Then she looked up to his face. It was a warm, human face with Ulquiorra’s features. It was a face that smelled good, a face that was a nice neighbor.  A face that professed to have spent the past four years being in love with her. She got lost in that thought for a moment, then, as she was inclined to do, she followed her instincts.  

 

She kissed _him._

 

Ulquiorra froze for a second before he realized what the hell was going on. She was kissing him. She was voluntarily kissing him. It wasn’t all on his end. Within the next second, he was kissing her back, pulling her body tight against his. He ran his hands up and down her back and over her ass, touching what he could. His fingers even found their way under the shirt she was wearing.

 

She knew she was asking for trouble.  She didn’t care. She was going to ask for seconds and thirds.  She had never in her life felt this way before, so electrified by a kiss or a caress; she was not at all interested in stopping anytime soon.  

 

She pressed into his mouth with more intensity and whimpered through her nose as he allowed her to wrap her arms around his neck.  She stopped kissing him for just a split second, just long enough to whisper his name; to let him know that she knew who he was, before diving back into it.

 

Damn this woman. He could feel himself start to get hard. She was too good at what she was doing and she was letting him touch her. Since he was feeling bold and getting his way, he slowly let his hands slip under the band of the pair of boxer-briefs she had borrowed from him. Her skin felt smooth under his fingertips. She didn’t seem to mind the intrusion.

 

His interpretation was correct.  She hummed into his mouth as he touched her, and she opened her lips wide enough to gasp into his mouth when he gave an experimental squeeze.

 

He would have had the notion to chuckle at that had he had any blood left in his damn brain. It all seemed to pool in his lap. He liked how she sounded. He liked how she opened for him. Ulquiorra used his other hand to push down the borrowed clothing she had on and then squeezed her ass again, this time with both hands.

 

She groaned.  God, she wanted him.  She was finding it increasingly difficult to take a full breath.  She stole his instead as she used her tongue to trace the shape of his upper lip and gave her hips an experimental roll toward his.

 

Oh.   _Oh._ This was pleasurable.

 

Ulquiorra growled, his baritone voice rumbled through his chest. All he wanted to do was take her clothes off and have at her body. He knew that was unrealistic and probably could be put in the really bad fucking idea column. Instead, he fell back onto the bed, taking her with him, pushing his hips up and against her. Two could play at this game.

 

She cried out when he thrusted against her.  Yeah, there were several layers of clothing between them, but she could literally feel his desire, and as much as it scared her, she wanted to see where this could go.  She pushed his hair to the side again and kissed the princess tattoo on his neck.

 

A groan left him this time. This woman seemed to know how to slam all of the buttons he had down. He was turned on. He wanted this. “Fuck, Woman. Fuck, do that again.” Ulquiorra bit his lip to keep from saying anything else.

 

She smiled and a small laugh came out close to his ear before she brought her mouth back down to his neck, gently kissing the tattoo, then flicking her tongue out to taste it.  His skin was so warm and soft as it stretched over the cords on his neck. She wanted to feel more of that. She used her free hand to stroke the other side of his neck as she lavished attention onto the mark in her honor.

 

Ulquiorra rolled his hips against her again and again. This felt way too good to stop. He didn’t want to stop. His hands kept moving lower, over the curve of her ass. His judgment was being clouded by lust, he let a hand brush the skin between her legs.

 

Her mouth seemed attached to his neck now, sucking and kissing at the skin. He had let no woman touch him like she was touching him. Ulquiorra always made sure to let the women know that what they did was just fucking and they wouldn’t be kissing. They wouldn’t be cuddling. With Orihime, this felt completely different. He was on a different plane of bliss with her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to do much more than just fuck her.

 

She kissed her way back to his mouth and weaseled her tongue into his mouth, only to coax his into hers so she could suck on it.  Her hips started to find a rhythm with his, and she felt heat rising between her legs. Her breathing became labored as they continued but she had no intention of taking a break.  Her hands found their way into his hair as she pulled his head, keeping it in contact with her as she moved. She did not want to break this touch. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware that to do so would be to invite doubt or regret from at least one of them, if not both.

 

His brain seemed to melt as they found each other’s lips again. She was touching him and Ulquiorra moaned at the slight pull in his hair. That wasn’t supposed to feel good. Pain wasn’t supposed to heighten this kind of pleasure. He lifted one hand from where they were touching her and grabbed one of her tits. His t-shirt did nothing but accentuate how round and perky and big they were.

 

How this woman could think poorly of herself was beyond his level of thinking. To him, she was perfect.

 

She mewled when he pawed at her breast, leaning into his touch and breaking contact with his mouth, whimpering his name again.  She sighed again and looked into his eyes. They were open. She didn’t look away, as they continued to touch and move on each other, her self-consciousness nowhere to be found.  Her breathing was hitched and she panted on his face, her warm breath covering him in waves.

 

“Orihime,” he whispered. His voice was full of longing, desire, and hunger. Hearing her say his name didn’t help things any. Had he been paying attention to his own body instead of everything else, he might have been able to stop what they were doing and cool down. He might have been able to hold back but he was so wrapped up in her, that Ulquiorra did not recognize he was approaching an orgasm. The tension in his muscles broke, cracking like a piece of fragile ice that someone stepped on. His body arched up against her and euphoria spread through his body.  
  
“FUCK,” he growled. He had come in his sweatpants. He had to stop her from moving her hips because his cock kept twitching and each pulse overstimulated him more. Ulquiorra carefully pushed her off of him and to the side. Sitting back up, he turned away from her.

 

Orihime didn’t know what happened.  Had she hurt him? Had he suddenly regretted everything?  What suddenly changed? The heat in her body suddenly felt ice cold as her mind flooded with rejection.

 

“Ulquiorra…  Did I do something wrong?” she asked in a tiny voice.

 

“No. I did,” he responded. Fuck. This was fucking horrible. That had never happened to him before. He could exercise great control and here he was losing it around her of all people.

 

She was beginning to panic.  He did something wrong, he said.  He wished he hadn’t done this with her.  He probably thought she was the worst. A slut.  A tease. Hadn’t she always told him she wanted to be friends, and then she goes and pulls a stunt like this?  What had she been thinking? Why did she accept his offer to sleep here? She _was_ the worst!  She sat up on the opposite side of the bed and grasped her knees painfully, shame flowing through her veins like a course, sandy sledge.  “I’m sorry,” she managed to squeak out before her lower lip starting wobbling too much to be able to speak.

 

He huffed a heavy sigh. Why should she be sorry? “I--I came. I’m the one who should be sorry. I should apologize to you,” Ulquiorra stammered. Why the fuck did he feel so embarrassed? Was it because he had a reputation to keep in place? No. It was because this was Orihime.

 

Orihime was confused.  She still felt terrible about being the cause of his current unhappy condition, but… Did he just say he came?  Isn’t that a good thing? She took a deep breath to calm herself. Maybe there was something about this situation that she didn’t understand.  “Isn’t that the point? I mean, don’t you want to?” She could slap herself for her inability to be articulate at the moment, but she figured she got the point across.

 

Ulquiorra stood up and walked around the bed and over to his dresser. He kept his back to her as he peeled off the sweatpants. He cleaned himself up with them before tossing them into the empty basket. He opened the top drawer and grabbed a pair of boxer-briefs. He put them on and then turned to face her. “I wanted to but--I kind of pride myself on making my partners achieve an orgasm before me.”

 

She was barely listening.  She had watched unblinkingly as he stripped from the waist down, getting a perfect eyeful of his ass and legs.  They were impressive. He could easily be an underwear model. Then he when he turned around with the boxer-briefs on she was treated to the sight of his still swollen member clearly outlined through the dark gray fabric.  Her mouth was too dry to speak. She sat there with wide eyes, staring, her mouth slightly agape. She could not look away.

 

He took her expression the wrong way. “I know. It’s ridiculous. I’m sorry. I was too wrapped up in everything to pay attention to what was going on.”

 

Her body was feeling weak but his apology kind of snapped her out of her ogling hypnosis.  She wiped the corner of her mouth and blinked hard a few times, raising her eyebrows. She cleared her throat. “Um,  ahem, well… Um, ridiculous isn’t the word I’d chose,” her breath rushed out of her in one quick huff as he turned slightly, treating her to a new perspective of his junk.  She whimpered slightly and sucked in a rushed breath, mentally forcing herself to drag her eyes away from the package. It was too obvious. She was going to get caught.

 

“What?” Ulquiorra glanced at her and then followed her line of sight to where she was looking. She was looking at him. She was staring at him. “Woman, tell me you’re free tonight.”

 

“I’m free tonight,” she answered robotically.  “I’m going out to Aquamarine but you should come…” she sounded like she was not quite living in reality.

 

A really perverted thought crossed his mind. He had to bite his lip to keep from saying it. He moved to over where she was sitting and placed a knee on the bed on the outside of one of her thighs. “I already did, but I think I can again,” he said, tilting her face up to look at him. Once again, he found himself in her lap, kissing her but it wasn’t hot and heavy. He was just pecking her lips with his, trailing kisses down her chin and jawline.

 

She trailed her fingers up the outside of his arms, ghosting the tips against his warm shirt, up to his hair again.  She gently combed her fingers through it as she made tiny little sounds in response to what he was doing with his lips.  Then, she felt something foreign in his hair.

 

“Ulquiorra, you have something in your hair,” she murmured,  carefully grasping the mass and tugging only slightly so he would be able to locate it on his own, then brought her hands down to his chest.

 

He sighed and broke the contact that he had with her skin. “Where?” Ulquiorra asked bringing his long hair over his shoulder. He saw it. Emerald green paint was streaked through strands of black hair.

 

“There’s a big chunk of it near the base of your neck,” she informed him reluctantly.

 

“I should put it up when I paint. Damn it,” he grumbled as he ran a hand where she said. Sure enough… he could feel the crusty surface of the paint that had dried there. The tube of green paint had practically exploded over his hands. He remembered wiping his hands off but must have missed some when he had brushed the mess out of his face. “I’m going to have to take another shower.”

 

“Yeah, but I’m thinking you might have to get a haircut.  I’m worried that’s not coming out,” she paused, considering him with a shorter style.  She’d be able to see that tattoo on his neck more easily. “You would probably look pretty hot with shorter hair, just sayin’,” she said with a shy smile.

 

He looked at her with a narrowed gaze, his eyelids covering half of his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll get it out,” he said. Ulquiorra kissed her again before he got off her lap. “I might show up tonight.”

 

She smirked at him.  “Are you kicking me out?”

 

“No, but don’t you have to get ready for your outing? You could stay here with me.”

 

“What time is it?” she asked lazily, stretching her arms out to either side.

 

Ulquiorra turned his head and looked at his alarm clock that sat on the bedside table. “It’s almost seven.”

 

“Oh crap, I gotta go,” she said, bouncing up to her feet.  She looked around for her clothes. “If you want to get in the shower right away I can let myself out.  Um….” she paused and looked at him with a cute kind of squinty smile, “You still owe me some coffee, by the way.  I expect some next time.” She felt kind of presumptuous saying it, but she wanted him to know that she didn’t expect this to be a one-time thing.

 

A smile came to his face, one where only half of his mouth actually moved. “I’m gonna give you _some_ the next time I see you,” he replied almost automatically. “I’m not rude, Woman. I will see you to the door.”

 

She laughed nervously, “Um, I have to change first…”  She picked up her things and started down the ladder, intending to go to the bathroom.  “Although I would love to keep these, this isn’t exactly the kind of ‘walk of shame’ ensemble a person like me can be seen in.”

 

“Take them with you,” he said watching her. Ulquiorra waited until she got to the bottom before he descended. He jumped a few feet from the floor, landing beside her. “Bathroom is through there.” He pointed to the only other door in the room.

 

His boyish little display did not escape her notice, and she grinned at him as though he was the most precious little nugget she had ever seen.  She didn’t think before grabbing his hand, standing up on her tiptoes, and kissing his cheek. Then she turned and bounced over to the bathroom, saying, “I may keep the shirt but I don’t need the briefs,” then shut the door behind her.


	8. Nice To Meet You Again

Orihime didn’t say a word to Uryu of course.    Uryu merely raised an eyebrow at her when she showed up at home wearing a men’s t-shirt over her skirt. It was kinda cute, although a somewhat sloppy choice for her.  She hopped in the shower right away and as usual, he gave her no privacy, walking right in while she was naked, ignoring her after an appreciative once-over before he began preening in the mirror.

 

“Uryu, honey, you gotta stop doing this,” she complained from under the water as she scrubbed her scalp.

 

“Why, what’s the big deal?  I’ve seen you naked a million times,” he retorted in a bored voice.

 

“Well, yeah, but you have Markus now.  What if he gets jealous?”

 

Uryu laughed.  “Have you forgotten everything?  One: Gay. Two: Gay. Three: Designers.  We dress and undress women all day.”

 

Orihime huffed. “Okay, fine, but did it ever occur to you that _I_ might have someone who could get jealous over me?”

 

Uryu laughed again.  “Ok, Babe, you let me know when that happens and I’ll draw up a bathroom schedule, mmkay?”  He laughed again, totally dismissing the idea.

 

Orihime almost contradicted him, but then she remembered the time.  Another day, perhaps.

 

She got out of the shower a moment later, a bit sad that she no longer smelled like eucalyptus and cedar.  She went to her room to find Uryu already in her closet. “What the hell?” she asked him.

 

“Markus wants you representing the brand tonight.  I’ve promised to make sure you do,” he answered.

 

“I’m perfectly capable of ‘representing the brand’ on my own, despite what you two think,” she complained as she toweled off her hair.  Despite being offended, him choosing her outfit would save her some time, so she stopped bothering him.

 

He ended up coming out of her closet with only a pair of black stiletto gladiator boots.

 

“What the fuck, Quin, I’m not a stripper, I’m going to need more than those,” she bitched.

 

“Markus sent something for you to wear, it’s in my room.  No underwear,” he warned.

 

She rolled her eyes and went to her dresser to fish out a modesty triangle she had made for herself that she wore when she modeled sheet clothing; she didn’t trust Uryu any farther than she could throw him.  

 

She used eyelash glue to keep it in place.  “Are you going to bring it in here or do you expect me to walk around butt naked?  Because if it’s the latter you’re going to be disappointed!”

 

She heard him groan and then walk into her room, the rustle of fabric announcing his arrival.  “Here. I’m going to have to sew you in at the shoulder,” he said, handing her the garment. It was a sheer gold one-shoulder dress with one long sleeve and a ruched skirt that only hung inches below her crotch.  She was glad she made that modesty triangle. The dress was covered with gold beads and sequins, strategically concentrated around the hem and the nipples, and the Orihime from days of yore - the young one who still lived inside her head - saw this, she cringed.  Hopefully, the color of her nipples wouldn’t stand out too much; they were pretty pale, to begin with, because this dress was not going to do much to provide her with any modesty.

 

“Do your hair pretty-down.  Kohl your eyes. Nude lips,” Uryu demanded.

 

Orihime rolled her eyes and sighed, making her way to the bathroom.  When she came out twenty minutes later, Uryu nodded his approval. “You’re getting good at this, Bitch,” he said with a small smile.

 

“I know.  Let’s go.”

 

***

 

Should he? Shouldn't he? That was a question he asked himself a lot these days; especially when it concerned anything dealing with the Woman. Their earlier encounter had done nothing but amped the cravings he had for her. After so many years there was only so much a person could take before they were driven insane. He was on the brink of insanity. It was worse since he had met her.

 

After attempting to paint again, he said fuck it and took another shower, scrubbing his hair, trying to get the paint out of it. The redhead had been right. It wasn’t coming out. After drying off and combing through the mess he sighed.

 

He’d been brought into this world with long hair and he’d never gotten it trimmed or cut. Four years had passed and it was longer. It almost hung to his waist. He’d make an appointment later this week at the place that one of the other artists had mentioned a while back.

 

Orihime hadn’t told him what time to show up so by the time his damn hair was done drying and he did a side part on the right side of his head letting his hair flip to that side, hours had passed since Orihime had left. He knew where Aquamarine was located. It would not take him long to get there.

 

Ulquiorra didn’t bother texting the redhead either. He wanted the element of surprise on his side, just in case she had no expectations of him showing his face.

 

Orihime and Uryu had arrived at the club at about 10:30 and took their time making the rounds and being seen before they got to the booth where Markus’ entourage sat.  Uryu quickly made his way over to Markus and after squeezing his ass had a seat and poured himself a glass of champers. Markus looked to Orihime with a cold expression, looking her up and down and finally indicating his approval by raising his glass to her and nodding once.  

 

She broke her resting bitch face only a moment to smile at him using her eyes only, then someone put a drink in her hand.  Markus shouted to her, “Hey honey, loosen up a little bit but nothing carbonated. I wanna see how the dress moves out there but not if you’re all bloated and nasty,”  he said.

 

Orihime pursed her lips for a second and nodded.  She looked down at the drink she was given: vodka on the rocks with four wedges of lemon.  “Really? Who ordered me the ‘Skinny Bitch’?” she whined before taking a sip. It wasn’t really the drink that she minded, it was the sentiment behind it.

 

She finished that drink and then one more before she made her way to the dance floor, led by Markus himself.  He was a tall, tan blond with chiseled cheekbones and a tightly trimmed haircut with a slightly receding hairline.  He was impeccably groomed and in excellent shape.

 

Orihime followed his lead and started dancing, trying her best to maximize the effect of the dress on her body; twisting her middles, running her hands through her hair, swaying her hips, rolling her shoulders; anything to accentuate her lines and get the fabric to shine and the beading to sparkle.  

 

Markus was loving it.  She wasn’t a typical model.  She was short. She had huge boobs for her frame.  But she looked completely fuckable in his clothes and that’s what he wanted.  He wanted every woman in that club to wish she was Orihime. He wanted every man in that club to either wish the same thing or want to fuck her.  It was perfect. In his excitement, Markus grabbed her waist with both hands and started to control her sway, bringing his mouth down to her ear and telling her how perfect his design was.

 

She didn’t notice that Ulquiorra had arrived.

 

He bypassed the line. All he had to say was, "C. Murcielago." Places were constantly trying to get his business.

 

Once Ulquiorra was inside he scanned the bodies milling about. He never liked going out. It was merely an activity to do to find a willing body to fuck. He went to the bar and got himself a drink. He turned to face the dance floor and quickly downed what he ordered.

  
  
Coppery hair flashed along with the body it was attached to. She was dancing and moving. It would have been fine except an envious feeling crept up his brain, injecting tendrils of green jealousy there. Orihime was with a blond man and that man was whispering in her ear.  He was touching her.

 

After setting the glass down on the bar, Ulquiorra walked to the edge of the dance floor, hoping she would see him.

 

Markus was starting to lose interest in talking to Orihime, and told her to keep going so he could watch from a distance before pushing her away and returning to his booth.  He thought he was discreet when he turned to Uryu and shoved his tongue down the other man’s throat. Luckily it was after midnight and no one present was either sober enough or bothered enough to care.

 

Orihime danced.  Someone brought her another drink and she stilled her movements somewhat to sip on it, using the opportunity to scan the room.  Ulquiorra had said he might be coming after all. She scanned. Her eyes narrowed slightly when she found him, watching him make his way toward her.

 

The crowd didn’t part for him. He had to navigate around the bodies that stood between him and her. Ulquiorra reached her and gazed down at her. “Who was the asshole?”

 

“Which asshole?  There’s a lot of them here,” she quipped, smiling at him.

 

“The one touching you when I got here. Who the fuck is he?” He didn’t mean to sound angry or jealous but it bled through his tone. Ulquiorra grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer to him.

 

Her cheeks warmed up at the tone of his voice.  Was he jealous? Why did that idea turn her on so much?  She put her arms up to rest on either side of his neck and brought her face closer to his so he would be able to hear over the music.  “That was Markus, I’m wearing his dress.”

 

Green eyes narrowed, Ulquiorra had to resist from throwing a sneer in the direction the man had gone. He didn’t know much about the modeling world or the fashion world. Mostly what he had overheard from conversations was that most models were whores, the photographers were creeps and the designers were gay. It didn’t look like this Markus was gay with the way he had moved with the woman who was now in his arms. “I don’t care what you’re wearing of his,” he stated. “You want brand loyalty or not?”

 

She didn’t care if anyone saw, He was C. Murcielago, after all.  Being seen with him was good for the brand. With her stilettos, she didn’t have as far to reach as she craned her neck up and captured his lips for a moment.  “How about now?” She asked with a purring voice. The vodka had made her somewhat confident.

 

“Hnngh,” he said after she kissed him. Ulquiorra took a moment to run his hands up and down the sides of her torso. “I’m becoming convinced. Still not entirely sold on it. Why was he dancing with you like that? Is he interested in you?”

 

She smiled at his naïveté.  “He’s interested in people seeing his line in action.  I could be anybody.”

 

“Self-centered twit,” Ulquiorra muttered about the other man. “Why can’t you wear your own fashions? Aren’t you a designer too?”

 

“It’s not that I can’t wear my own, it’s just not ‘my time’ yet. Markus’ star is rising.  I’m gaining traction as a fashion person, but I have some dues to pay before I can start calling myself a designer.  By the way, I bet if you look over at Markus and Uryu right now, Uryu is probably pouting because Markus is spanking himself seeing you talk to me.  He wants to meet you so badly.”

 

“What for? Just so I can be a name he can casually drop?” Ulquiorra scoffed but he did turn his head, scowling. Sure enough, a blond headed asshole was staring straight at them. The dark haired man decided to show this designer what was his. He turned Orihime just so and kissed her deeply.

 

Orihime whined and kissed him back.  She was wishing very badly that she was not sewn into her dress, or she would have suggested leaving and going back to his place then and there.  His whole macho, possessive schtick was working for her at the moment.

 

They were interrupted a moment later by a tall man dressed all in black with a headset on.   He tapped Ulquiorra on the shoulder.

 

Ulquiorra broke away from Orihime gave the person who interrupted them a hard stare. “What?” he snapped.

 

The man spoke with a strong lisp.  “Compliments of Markus. He’d like to extend an invitation to join him with Ms. Inoue when you’re done here,” the man said with a bored expression, offering Ulquiorra another of the same drink he had ordered earlier and a fresh drink for Orihime.

 

Glancing at Orihime who gave him a small nod, Ulquiorra took the glasses and then turned back to the woman handing her the one with lemon in it. “I’m only doing this for you, you understand that, correct?”

 

She gave him an apologetic nod, then cupped her hand toward his ear so he would lean down toward her.  When he did, she said, “Yes, but it’s not just for my benefit. I can’t get out of this dress unless someone sews me out of it,” she giggled and pulled back to see his reaction, reaching for his free hand.

 

“And here I had hopes of ripping it off you,” he commented as he started walking across the dance floor. It didn’t take but a few moments before they were standing at that booth. Ulquiorra pointedly did not look at the Quincy male.

 

Orihime watched him though, waiting for a reaction.  If she was going to be with Ulquiorra, she was going to have to deal with this sooner or later.  No time like the present, she thought. “Thanks for the drinks, Markus. This is…,” she paused, almost introducing him as Ulquiorra, then tugged on his hand for him to fill in the blank.  She only ever called him by his real name. She didn’t know what he went by socially.

 

“C. Murcielago,” he said smoothly with a passive face. His green eyes never left Markus’ face but Ulquiorra did say, “Nice to see you again, Ishida.”

 

That voice was the same, Uryu thought.  He was drunk. That must be it. Still, he rubbed his eyes.  He could not believe that standing in front of him was the lord of fucking darkness holding the hand of princess fucking Orihime, and that they had been all but fucking on the dancefloor but moments ago.  “What the fuck, bitch?” He yelled at Orihime.

 

The glass he was holding was slammed onto the table and finally, Ulquiorra’s eyes shifted in the Quincy’s direction. “She has a name. It is not any derogatory term,” Ulquiorra growled. He knew it was the alcohol he had ingested that was causing him to act like this. He was being a jealous fucking asshole. He did not want anyone to disrespect Orihime. He wouldn’t allow it.

 

She set her drink down calmly and rubbed his arm with her newly freed hand in an effort to soothe him.  “Don’t worry Ul… Ulq.” She hoped that she wasn’t upsetting any kind of balance by saying that. “That’s just what we call each other sometimes, right Quin bitch?”

 

Uryu nodded cautiously.  While Orihime’s spiritual pressure had faded significantly since their separation from Ichigo, his own had nothing to do with the shinigami.  He tried to detect anything from the person before him but found nothing. He was absolutely human. “Right, Hime. Right,” he muttered a distracted response.

 

“If your friend will behave himself, I think my companion and I will sit,” Ulquiorra said to the blond. He raised an eyebrow before sitting on the other side of the booth, pulling Orihime into his lap. “What do you want... Markus, is it?”

 

Markus nodded and leaned over on his elbows, batting his eyes at Ulquiorra.  “Indeed. And what can we call you, Mr. Murcielago?” Markus simpered. He _really_ wanted to ingratiate himself toward the artist.

 

“You may call me what you just did without the mister in front of it,” came the reply. Ulquiorra wasn’t interested in anyone but the woman. She was his focus, everything else around him was annoying gnats flying about him. “Are you attached to this dress by the way? It is your design, isn’t it?”

 

“It is! What do you think of it?” Markus asked, overjoyed that the artist was recognizing his work.  “It’s something from my new line. I had it tailored especially for Booboo Bear, right sweetie?” he said, making an unattractive cutesy face at Orihime.  “Nobody can wear it like her. Her body is so bangin’, right?”

 

“I think it’s going to look fine on my bedroom floor when I rip it off of her.”

 

Orihime blushed but didn’t correct him.

 

Uryu stood up and swayed a moment before regaining his balance.  “I think not! Ella no te follaría, Espada!’ he said, not exactly pronouncing each sound perfectly, slurring over some of it.

 

Ulquiorra snorted and shook his head. It must have been his residual memory as an Espada that he knew what the Quincy had said. “Eso es asunto de ella únicamente,” he replied and then patted Orihime on the thigh. “Time to go, Woman.”

 

“Wait!” Uryu lurched out of the booth.  “I have to get her out of this dress. There are no fasteners. I’ll have her back in a couple minutes,” Uryu yelped, grabbing Orihime by the arm not wrapped around Ulquiorra’s and pulling Orihime to the bathroom.

 

Once in the room, the Quincy hissed to her, “What the fuck?  Is that actually Ulquiorra?” His eyes were wide as saucers as he asked, already pulling out his seam ripper and starting on the shoulder of the dress.

 

“Well, yes and no.  It’s Ulquiorra’s soul, kind of.  He told me he “found his heart” and was spared from hell.  He woke up two years later in the body of an overdose victim.  He’s gone to see Urahara but you know how that guy is. He’s been painting all these years.”

 

Uryu shook his head.  “That’s ridiculous. He was a motherfucking Espada!  A child of Aizen! He _kidnapped_ you and cut my hand off!”

 

Orihime sighed. “He also saved us from berserker Ichigo but no one ever seems to remember that part of the story.  Regardless, he’s just a human now.”

 

“Be that as it may, Hime,” he was starting to sound like the know-it-all straight-laced Quincy he had been in high school again.  “You can’t be serious about this guy? What are you going to do? Fall in love with him?”

 

Orihime looked at him without saying anything.  She didn’t have to. It was written all over her face.

 

“Oh my god,  really? _Really_?  Already?  You just met him like two or three months ago!”

 

“Well, that’s just not true, Uryu.  I met him six years ago.”

 

Uryu’s eyebrows shot up.  If he wasn’t wearing contacts he would be pushing his glasses up his nose.  As it was, he brought a finger to rest between his eyes. “You had feelings for him then?!”

 

“Yes, and you all knew it.  I was devastated when he died.  You all just ignored it.” She scoffed, getting impatient and starting to wiggle out of the dress herself.  “I slept at his house today. Things happened. There is a good chance things will continue to happen. You’re going to have to learn to be okay with that. And not that you’ve been sleeping at home much these days, but _no more sleeping in my bed!”_

 

He scoffed.  “Whatever. You’re a big girl, I can’t tell you what to do.” He pulled off his white button up shirt and gave it to her to wear.  She didn’t have anything else. She put it on and rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. Uryu stood back and shook his head in disapproval.  “You look like a skank in that. Hold on,” he took a black satin ribbon out of his bag and wrapped it around her waist, tying it in a bow over her hip.  “There, that’s _passable._ At least it goes with the shoes.  You should blouse out the top a little more and open one more button,”  she did as she was told and looked back up at him. “That’s better,” he finally said.

 

She sighed.  “Thanks for understanding, Quin,” she said over her shoulder as she exited the bathroom, Uryu following topless behind her.

 

Ulquiorra had been staring at Markus while the other man stared back. Finally, he sighed. The silence was awkward. “The dress looked great on her and really brings out the best features of her body.”

 

“I’m glad you agree.  I was thinking, the two of you have great chemistry.  I wonder if you wouldn’t mind doing some test shots with her for my winter line?  Something to think about?” Markus asked in a sweet, uplilting manner.

 

“I don’t model. I know nothing about it,” Ulquiorra said and then looked around to see if Orihime was done. “You wouldn’t want me to model anyway.”

 

“And why is that?  You are exquisite,” Markus fawned.

 

Ulquiorra tilted his head and looked at the blond. “I was under the impression that most designers don’t like models with tattoos. Thanks for the compliment but I’m not interested in modeling.”

 

“Well, it’s either you or some other model.  Maybe Booboo will help change your mind. Anyway, I don’t mind the tattoos, depending on what they are.  Wanna show me?” Markus was undeterred by Ulquiorra’s negative response.

 

“Not particularly--What do you mean some other model?” Ulquiorra scowled at the man. Was this so-called designer saying that he would pair Orihime up with another male? That idea made him curl his fist.

 

“That’s exactly what I mean, Murcielago.  She shines on her own but put her with someone and she really glows, don’t you think?”  Markus said, his eyes trailing off to watch Uryu and Orihime approach, flashing his brows appreciatively at his topless boyfriend.

 

Ulquiorra’s mouth went dry, looking at Orihime approaching the booth. Her legs were still bare but she looked adorable in the shirt/belt thing she wore. He stood and nodded at Markus. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a prior commitment to keep.”

 

Orihime approached Ulquiorra and looked between him and Markus.  “What are you two talking about?” she asked with a smile, taking a sip from the drink she left on the table.

 

“Oh, I was just talking to your boyfriend about modeling alongside you for my winter line,” Markus responded, swirling his finger around the rim of his champagne glass.  “He’s being a bit resistant. As the face of Markus, I wonder if you can’t somehow, I dunno, _convince_ him?”

 

The person mentioned shook his head. “I will consider your proposal,” Ulquiorra said before grabbing Orihime’s hand.

 

Orihime smiled at Ulquiorra and followed him as he moved through the crowd of people toward the exit.  “We’re leaving already? It seems like you just got here.”

 

“I want to take you somewhere. I do owe you coffee remember? Or we can go back to my place… Your place?” Ulquiorra smirked at her.

 

“Uryu might come back, but if you’re interested, you’re more than welcome,” she said.  “It didn’t take too much to convince him that despite all his posturing he can’t say shit about you to me,” she tacked on.

 

He shrugged. “I don’t care if he comes back and catches me fucking you in the middle of your apartment,” Ulquiorra muttered. He looked at the redhead. “I’m a human, what threat am I to any of you?”

 

“Well the only one I can see you being a threat to is me,” she said with a giggle.  When she looked at him afterward, tucking some hair behind her ear, he could see a flash of worry in her eyes.

 

He didn’t understand. How could he be a threat to her? “Besides your virginity, how am I a threat?” he asked.

 

She was still a little buzzed and her inhibitions were dampened.  “You have my heart, Ulquiorra," she said, rather loudly, into the night air.  “You can do anything you want with it. Including crush it,” she said, turning to offer him a lopsided smile.  She was an idiot. She knew it. _It is what it is,_ she thought, shrugging her shoulders as she turned around to continue walking.

 

Ulquiorra stopped walking and tugged on her hand to bring her to a halt. When Orihime peered back at him, he pulled her closer. “Why would I crush your heart? It’s the same though. You have my heart. You could do the same thing to mine.”

 

She hummed and nodded.  He was right, she supposed.  She looked to the side for a moment, thinking, then looked up at him with her lips quirked up and said, “Can you even believe this is real? I mean, look at us.  It’s _us._ You are who you are, I am who I am.  Think of us six years ago. That’s still _us._ It’s crazy!  Don’t you think?” she asked, grinning in wonder.

 

The _us_ she was talking about was a story of a monster who had taken the princess and spirited her away to a far off castle in a distant land. The _us_ she was talking about cried constantly and was sad about being locked in a room. The _us_ she was talking about included the monster being slain by a better killing machine. The _us_ she was talking about deserved someone better than him. Ulquiorra shook his head. “Come, woman. I’ll escort you home.”

 

She was confused.  What happened? Why did the mood shift?  The grin melted off of her face. “Is something wrong?” she asked quietly.

 

“Nothing is wrong,” Ulquiorra replied. Sure, he could and would talk women into having sex and fucking him. None of them knew him though. None of them could get a grasp on what he had been and his past. None of those women had witnessed the brutality he had dealt to the intruders of Hueco Mundo. They were nameless fish in the sea but he had dreamt that each of them had been Inoue Orihime.

  
  
Now that he had her in his hands, Ulquiorra couldn’t do it. He wanted her so much but she knew his past. How could she be okay becoming close to a monster; a displaced soul? “You’re drunk, I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you.” It was a lie.

 

“I am not drunk,” she denied flatly.  She knew that it wasn’t the reason he was suddenly distant though.  There was something he wasn’t telling her. This was nothing new. They Ulquiorra she had known as a hollow was not exactly forthcoming either.  Still, she could feel that something had changed. Something was _wrong._

 

“I said something I shouldn’t have, didn’t I?”

 

He shook his head. The only thing that echoed in his head were the words, _six years ago_. They had a history. They had a past together. He had allowed horrible things to happen to her. Yammy’s blow. His own kidnapping of her. Being subjected as a sideshow to reverse the damage done to Grimmjow’s arm. Loly and Menoly’s attacking the woman twice. “No, I’ve been up for a while. I’m tired. I want to see you home and then go to my own apartment.”

 

She gave him a small smile and nodded, looking forward and appearing to accept his excuse.  It was a lie. She knew this was all wrong. There was nothing she could do, though. It fucking figured, she thought.  Every man she ever cared for always turned around to shit on her anyway. That’s all she was good for when it came to romance. She should have just stuck to gays.  At least they never showed her the promise of happiness only to yank it away. “You know what? There’s a taxi stand right here. I could just take a cab the rest of the way and then you can get to bed.  Thanks for everything today. It meant a lot to me,” she said. She wasn’t lying. It had meant a lot. She squeezed his hand and let go, walking toward a cab, its automatic doors opening already.

 

“Orihime!” He called out. “I’ll text you later.”

 

She turned her head, gathered her courage, and grinned at him.  “I’ll be waiting,” she said, then ducked into the cab. It may as well have been raining.


	9. Showing Skin

Ulquiorra waited three days before he made the appointment with a stylist. He explained to the woman what he wanted and how he liked his hair to be and that the cut should take minimal effort to maintain. Then he explained about why he was getting his hair chopped off. The paint had not come out. It would only take extreme patience or scissors to get the dried blob out of his hair.

 

When it was all said and done, Ulquiorra ended up with a slight variation of a long fringe haircut with the sides and back being tapered from a medium length to a short fade. The hair on top of his head was significantly longer. The stylist had taken clippers to the paint covered hair and he shivered when they touched his neck. He could see inches just falling to the floor. When the woman was done, she asked if Ulquiorra wanted it styled.

 

“It goes to the right,” he replied.

 

“About here?” she had asked, drawing a line down the top of his head.

 

“Here.” He put his finger almost to the side of his head.

 

Throughout the entire exchange, the woman flirted with him but Ulquiorra remained impassive. The entire exchange with Orihime had him doubting himself. What the hell had those women seen in him? What did she see in him?

 

He stood at the counter waiting for the stylist to come back with his money when they were done. She came up to him and handed him a piece of paper. Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow at it and pocketed his change. “What is this?”

  
  
“It’s my phone number,” she said with a cheeky smile then walked away. 

  
Ulquiorra crumpled the number in his fist and threw it away the first chance that he got. He was done. He was tired of chasing after versions of the redhead when he had the real thing. Well, he could have the real thing. He arrived back at his apartment and went up to his bedroom. He paced the carpeted floor for a moment. 

  
It was silly. He had told her how he felt about her. He had fallen in love with her. He had fought Kurosaki trying to protect what he had claimed. Ulquiorra wanted Orihime to return those feelings. He wanted her to feel like he did. He wanted them to both feel like that.

 

He took off his t-shirt and then posed in front of the full length mirror he had bought a while ago. It was now or never. He took the pic and sent it to her without any other message.

 

***

 

Three days passed with no contact.  It was over, she was sure of it. Just like he warned her, he had wormed his into her heart and then crushed it.  She had it coming. She couldn’t blame him. She was just stupid.

 

She had known that night after leaving the club that the spell had been broken. She decided to bury herself in her work. It was easier to ignore a broken heart if she stayed busy.

 

So busy she had been, in fact, that on that third day when she got his text, she didn’t blink an eye.  She had been sitting in a chair doing hair tests for Markus and sketching in her design notebook when her phone chimed.  She picked it up and brought up the message without even looking at it at first. It wasn’t until the hairstylist said, “Whoa - who’s the fuckboy?” that she looked.

 

There he was. She absently noted that his hair was different.  She actively noticed that he was topless. Oh my god he wasn’t kidding about the tattoos.  She saved the picture to her photo library and zoomed in. Holy hot abs, Batman.  She bit her lip and appreciated his form for a moment first. She had seen his bare ass and legs but she had never seen him topless as a human.  He was a lot more… meaty. In a good way.

 

She zoomed to the tattoos.  She started with the familiar; the ones on his neck and forearms.  Then she followed the forearm to her right up to a feather and a pair of antlers near his shoulder, which looked nice but held no significance to her.  She scanned across his chest and smirked, he had recreated his Espada number tattoo and his hollow hole, below which was an anatomical heart with some kind of green facets encrusting the bottom, the word _Espada_ written underneath in it in a script with a five-sided star on each side.  Under his clavicle to her left was his last name, and on the attached shoulder was a representation of _The Owl and The Pussycat._  It was kind of romantic, she thought with a small smile.  She looked close. It appeared that the owl and the pussycat were dancing under the light of the moon of Hueco Mundo.    The same tattoos she had seen on the attached forearm remained. She scanned across his belly. Oh. Was that? Yes, it was;  her hairpin on his ribs. It was larger than life, but very obviously hers. On the opposite side, on his waist, appeared to be a large cherry blossom.  It was hard to make out because of the camera angle, but it looked pretty and well done. Finally, her eyes rested at his pubic area. His jeans were slung dangerously low, and despite herself she felt warmth between her legs.  She noticed there were tattoos there as well.

 

She zoomed into that area, feeling a bit like a pervert. On her left, a golden paper airplane was tattooed on his lower belly.  To the center, a chess piece. The Queen. Interesting. Last, just to the inside of what would be his left hipbone, were roman numerals.  She took a minute translating them into arabic numerals in her mind. IX - III, they read. 9 - 3. Her birthday.

 

Whoa.

 

Whoa.

 

She shook her head.  He had said all but three of the tattoos were relating to her in some way.  She didn’t see the connection in most of them, but some, like the hairpin and this, her birthday, were obvious.  Had he really cared for her that much? Had he been in love with her like he said? If so, why had he pulled away so abruptly?   It didn’t make any sense to her.

 

She didn’t respond right away, thinking over everything and wondering what he meant to accomplish by sending her the picture.  In the end, about an hour and a half later, she realized she could wonder all she wanted; she wouldn’t get an answer until she asked.  So she did.

 

  * _What was that for?_



 

Ulquiorra was sitting on his bed with his phone sitting next to him. He felt like a fool. He shouldn’t have sent the pic to her. He was stupid. He was dumb. He should throw himself off the roof of the building. That is how stupid he felt as he waited for a reply.

 

Then her text came in. He dragged a hand down his face and took a deep breath before opening it. What was that for? What did she think it was for?

 

_\- You wanted to see them. I’m showing you them. I’m done. You’ve got my “brand loyalty”._

 

He sighed and then sent the text off to her. She’d probably take one look at it and then delete him from her life.

 

Her reply was almost immediate.

 

  * _You’re done what?_



 

Would he have to spell it out for her? Did she want him going all “ _Say Anything_ ” and find where she was and play music for her? Ulquiorra shook his head.

 

_\- I’m done fucking other people._

 

She was confused.  Why would he stop… oh.  Brand loyalty. What? He was more confusing than ever.

 

  * _Why the radio silence the last three days?_



 

He bit his lip and wished that she would just understand where he was coming from; what he was thinking. “Woman,” he muttered.

 

_\- We got history. I got scared. I’m human now. I don’t get some of this shit that’s going on inside of me. Take it or leave it._

 

  * _I told you I took it.  I can handle the truth. I want to see you.  I want you to tell me about these tattoos. I understand some of them but,_ \- ! _!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!_ OMG _I JUST NOTICED YOUR HAIR!_



 

_\- You said you wanted it cut or that I should have gotten it cut… Something like that. Whatever. You don’t like it?_

 

Ulquiorra frowned before sending the text to her.

 

She didn’t write back.  She took a selfie. She sat with her hair done up like the Bride of Frankenstein or something in a stylist's chair, blushing and grinning like a schoolgirl.  She put a filter with hearts floating around her head on it, and captioned it, “Hey handsome... Wanna go out sometime?”

 

She sent it feeling like the world’s biggest loser.  She didn’t care. He looked _so good!_

 

She waited a second, not receiving a reply, and decided she better specify.

  * _I am saying, “it surprisingly suits you.”_



 

He scoffed at the words but smiled.

 

 _\- I would love to go out with you. Tell your boy_ Markus _I’ll do the test thing. Also, I’m not gonna answer any texts about the tattoos. Gotta ask questions about them to my face._

 

  * _Name the time and place.  I missed you._



 

Hmmm. He had to ponder this for a moment. How could three fucking words make his heart start beating faster? She missed him? She had no fucking clue how much he missed her.

 

_\- Now? Tonight? Tomorrow morning while I make you breakfast? Any time. Any place. I missed you too, Woman._

 

  * _Tonight.  I look ridiculous right now (don’t tell Markus, lol)_



 

She didn’t look ridiculous. She looked cute… minus the hair.

 

_\- Go home, take a shower, get pretty for me. LOL. Or you can shower here._

 

She smiled.

 

  * _Are you going to pick me up?  Or should we meet for that coffee first?_



Ulquiorra felt like if they met at her house something was going to happen. Then again… if she came to his place… something was definitely going to happen. Decisions, decisions. What to do?

 

_\- Come over like you are._

 

She laughed.  So eager? Well I guess he had to make up for lost time.  Still, she didn’t want to feel less attractive than he was, although with the new hair and the abs and the tatts… it was going to be a challenge to even match him.

 

  * _No way.  You can’t be the prettier one.  At least not that much prettier.  I’m getting cleaned up first.  Do you want me to bring coffee?_



_\- I’m not pretty. I’m hot. I’m fine. I’m sexy. Hi, yes, did you call for an order of ego bc here it_ is. _Just come over. Fuck the coffee._

She bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head.

 

  * _I’ll see you at eight._



 

***

 

She got out of the stylist’s chair at around six and got home as quickly as she could.  She showered and shaved, lotioned and preened. She dried her hair and blew it out as fast as she could.  It would have to stay slightly damp. She threw on a green sundress. It was an off-the-rack version of the one she had worn for Uryu’s fashion show.  Much more modest; it didn’t expose everything but her nipples - she could wear a bra underneath easily without it being seen - and it had a crocheted racerback instead of being nearly bare in back.  She did her minimal face, threw on some white converse and a cropped jean jacket, and left the house with minutes to spare.

 

Ulquiorra was nervous. He paced his apartment, seemingly wearing a groove in the hardwood floor. So he decided to give up a lifestyle of whoring around and focus on one woman. That woman knew him better than most. She had seen different facets of him. He was wearing the same thing he had on in the picture he sent earlier. No shirt… just his jeans.

 

After their texts, he’d gone back to the genkan and taken off his shoes. He tried to make it a habit since Orihime had seemed so scandalized over him just traipsing through his apartment with them on. He shouldn’t be this anxious. They had done this a couple times. Except the last time had ended with him baring his naked ass to her and a heavy dose of making out. He could do this. She was coming over. He’d make the coffee. They’d talk.

 

She was at about the fourth floor.  She had been so happy to see him that she thought of little else except for feeling happy until she was on her way to the fifth floor.  By the time she was on the ninth floor, her stomach was doing flip-flops. Was tonight the night? Was she going to finally have sex? Even if not, was it going to be as easy in person as it had been via text?

 

When she got to his door, she paused to catch her breath before knocking.  She gave herself a good three minutes, walking back and forth in front of his door and trying to cool down.  She was glad she had the sense to take her jacket off before she started climbing the steps.

 

Once she was able to breathe and speak at the same time, she knocked.

 

Hearing those taps on his door made his heart leap into his throat. She was here. Okay. Fuck. He couldn’t do this. Ulquiorra shuffled towards the door and stood there for a moment. He wanted to stomp his feet and whine like he’d seen some child do some months ago. This was one little bump in the road, but one little thing could mess this entire thing up.

 

Unlocking the door, Ulquiorra opened it and looked at the woman on the other side. “Hey,” he said before allowing her to enter the apartment.

 

“Hey yourself,” she said, smiling at him and entering, stepping into his personal space but then backing off when he took a step backward.   _Ok then, no hugs._

  
He noticed her expression and frowned. What had he done wrong?

 

She smiled at him and bent down to untie her shoes.  Maybe he wanted to talk first. That made sense. “So what did you do today?”  she asked sweetly.

 

“I got a haircut. I texted you. I tried to paint.” Ulquiorra was confused by her question. He thought something significant was supposed to happen since he declared his undying devotion to her. “What about you?”

 

“You know, same old, same old, moped about you ignoring me, got some work done, had Markus’ assistant torture me.  A regular day.” she stood, now free of her shoes, and waited to be ushered into the next room.

 

He closed the door then turned to her. Ulquiorra had been waiting for hours to get her alone; to have her all to himself. He reached for her and wrapped his arms around her. “I wasn’t ignoring you,” he said to the top of her head.

 

She was easily placated, wrapping her arms around his bare torso as well, and inhaling his scent again.  “I missed this smell,” she said, then giggled at herself. She wasn’t going to even try to be cool around him.  There was no point. He’d figure out how sappy and corny she was soon enough, and honestly, if her five lifetimes of love and what is the heart speeches hadn’t taught him about her sugary sweet inclinations, there was no hope for him anyway.  She squeezed.

 

“A good thing I just ordered more,” he commented, highly amused at her. “I missed you, Woman. I’m not saying that to say it. I did. I missed your complaining. I missed your kisses. I missed making perverted comments to you.”

 

She hummed.  “Well, I missed those things too.  Especially the complaining,” she teased.  “What do you mean complaining!? I am so not a complainer!  Except maybe about your 12 flights of stairs. Did you know I stood out there for a good five minutes before I knocked because I didn’t want to show you how out of breath I was?”

 

“I was in here pacing, so I’m glad you took that five minutes break,” Ulquiorra teased back. Well, he wasn’t really teasing because he had been doing that, but if he put a laugh with it, she wouldn’t think anything was amiss. “Did Blond Dickhead make you work hard today?”

 

“Always.  I’ll be glad when the campaign is over.  I mean, Markus is rarely there and he’s nice to me because I’m his boyfriend’s roommate, but he is very demanding.   Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk shop. I want you to invite me in, make me coffee, and tell me about your tattoos!”

 

He chuckled then stepped away from her. “Nope, I’m not telling you a thing about them. You’ve gotta ask questions. Go in the other room and sit down. I’ll bring the coffee out to you.”

 

“Fine,” she mumbled, only pretending to be disgruntled.  She actually thought this little game could be fun. She walked into the studio space and sat in the computer chair to wait.

 

Ulquiorra stood in the doorway and looked at her. The coffee could wait. “Which one do you want to know about first?”

 

“Umm, tell me about the feather.”

 

“Um, I could fly. I thought it was appropriate. Birds can fly. They have feathers. I’m sure with enough time I could have evolved more.” Ulquiorra cleared his throat and then shook his head. “Uh, I was more powerful than any of the other Espada. I’m sure you know that. I liked my position I had. Even achieving the Segunda Etapa release, there was still more power there.”

 

She whistled lowly.  “You sound pretty confident.  What was the line from that one anime?  “This isn’t even my final form!”,”. She paused to laugh.  “Seriously though, I am glad you didn’t reach a third release;  I probably would have been vaporized just by proximity. I can still remember how it felt; your spiritual pressure.”

 

He shook his head. Anytime he thought of the past and what happened put him in a foul mood. “Anyway,” he said. “Uh, next tattoo...”

 

“Ok then, the antlers.”

 

“I knew the Tres Espada before Hallibel and all I could remember was that she turned into a goat or something. I plan on getting some form of all the Espada on me. A wolf for Starrk. A skull for Barragan.” Ulquiorra shook his head again. Why was he telling her this stuff?

 

She was smiling and hanging on his every word.  “What about Grimmjow?” she asked, sounding like the idea was distasteful.

 

He gave a chuckle and licked his lips before responding. “I had no respect for anyone under me. Nnoitra down to Aaroniero could kiss my Cuatro ass. Yammy was annoying but I knew what he could do. He doesn’t deserve a spot but, he can’t be placed on that list.”

 

Ulquiorra took a minute before asking, “How many Espada still remain? Did the shinigami kill them all? You said Grimmjow was alive some months ago.”

 

“Hmm, as far as I know just him, Hallibel and Nelliel remain.  I haven’t heard about them since the war; I assume they still live in Hueco Mundo.”

 

The dark-haired man nodded his head. It figured the rest had perished. “Next,” he said. “Pick a tattoo, any tattoo.”

 

She laughed and smiled broadly.  “Um, let’s see.. the flower on your waist.”

 

He twisted his torso so that she could get a better look at it. “It reminded me of you… How warm and beautiful you were. How pink you were, compared to the gray pallor of my Hierro.”

 

Her mouth twisted into an embarrassed kind of smirk and she blushed bright pink. She let her eyes flit between her fingers and the flower tattoo.  “You thought I was beautiful?”

 

Green eyes rolled and he smirked at her. “Duh, I know beauty when I see it. Remember the ‘I only believe in what I can see bullshit’?”

 

She chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, um, anyway, next tell me about the heart, both hearts.”

 

“I asked you years ago what was a heart, did I not?” Ulquiorra asked. He walked over to where she was sitting and leaned down to kiss her. When he pulled away, he brushed her cheek with his fingers. “I found it. I was dying but I found it. I got the other one because the heart was in my hand. You reached out to me and my last thought before I completely turned to ash was that your heart was in my hand.”

 

Her lower lip wobbled, and she pulled at his hand for him to lean down again so she could kiss him.  She pulled away after a moment and rested her head against his. “I always wondered about that. You had a very gentle, almost regretful expression.  I was very emotional at the time so I didn’t trust my memory, but I always thought that maybe you knew; maybe you always knew.”

 

He wanted to gather her in his arms but didn’t. Ulquiorra stood there like that with her. He decided to voluntarily tell her about one of his tattoos. “I got my name tattooed on me so the whole C. Murcielago thing wasn’t suspicious, I guess. I mean people peg me as a self-centered asshole. ”

 

She kissed his cheek and asked, “In that case is it safe to assume that the Espada tattoo and the other written one are to be taken at face value?”

 

“I’m not a sword. I was never anything to Aizen but a gofer. I got it tattooed on me because although I didn’t like my job, I took pride in being one of them. _Luz de la Luna_ was that stupid thing I threw at that Hollow. It never worked right,” Ulquiorra answered.

 

She laughed a bit,  “You may not have been a sword, but you handled one rather nicely,” she looked to see if he caught her innuendo.  Before he could say anything she continued, “The way you moved was so elegant and precise... It was like watching a dancer or a heron.”

 

He shrugged at her assessment. “Move, let me sit down. You can sit on my lap and I’ll tell you about the others.”

 

She did as he said, standing and waiting for him to be seated before sitting sideways on his lap, wrapping her near arm behind his back.  “What about this one? “ she asked, pointing at the cross.”

 

“I got it because it looked like a simplified sword. Then I found out what it really was,” Ulquiorra laughed. He remembered his face when one of the other tenants had told him about the cross. “I’m stuck with it. Let’s see which ones are left… You know about the boat, you’ve seen the owl and the cat and the moon. I’ve already told you about those. I guess that’s it.”

 

“Not so fast, mister,” she said, lowering her gaze.  “I think there are three more little mysteries…”

 

“Four but if I don’t have to explain it, then I won’t,” Ulquiorra smirked at her. “Uh, the plane is from your Shun Shun Rikka. It looked like a small plane to me. What you did was--You defied the laws of nature and I couldn’t process it. It was unbelievable to me. ”

 

“And the blue one is my hairpin, right?”

 

“Yes, Woman.”

 

She kissed his cheek again.  “And the numerals? My birthday?  I didn’t know you cared much about something like that, being an immortal and all that.”

 

He sighed and propped his elbow on his desk, holding his head up. “That’s what separated us. I was immortal and you were human. Your life was fragile, mine wasn’t. I studied everything about you before I took you away. Those numbers were burned into my brain, along with every other fact about you.”

 

“How long had you watched me before you were ordered to take me?”

 

Ulquiorra could feel his face get hot. He did not want to answer this question but he knew she deserved an answer. “A month, maybe close to two?”

 

She raised her brow in surprise.  That long? "I must have bored you to tears.  Unless of course, I did some stupid things… oh god, I probably…  How much time per day would you watch?” she asked, worried that she would regret the question.

 

“Almost twenty-four hours a day. I had one of those bracelets that I gave you. I could move around undetected,” Ulquiorra replied. “I saw a lot. I heard a lot.”

 

She hung her head in shame and muttered, “Oh my god!”  She didn’t want her bedtime rituals coming up in conversation or her bathroom habits or the things she told her brother in prayer, it was too embarrassing to even think about.  So, she changed the subject. “And the last one? The chess piece? That one I don’t understand.”

 

His face got redder and he could feel the blush creeping to his ears. How the fuck was he going to answer this without sounding like a pervert? Ulquiorra bit his lip and groaned. “You’re not a princess. You’re a queen and all those tattoos remind me of you when I--” He couldn’t say it.

 

“When you what?” She asked, so very innocently, taking a finger and tracing the crown of the chess piece carefully.

 

Oh god. He could barely swallow. “Stop. Stop. Stop. I don’t want a repeat of a couple days ago,” Ulquiorra said before grabbing her hand. “They remind me of you when I get myself off.”

 

She was so shocked by his response that she blew a raspberry before bursting out into a peal of girlish giggles.  “Ok, now I don’t feel so embarrassed about you watching me do… watching me all that time,” she finally said, blushing bright red as well.

 

“I watched you while you were captive too. I saw everything then. I knew your schedule enough while in the World of the Living to give you space. I knew when to give you privacy.”

 

She hung her head and shook it, whining in dismay.  “You must have thought I was a pervert.”

 

Ulquiorra chuckled. “Woman, you’re not. Do you have any tattoos?” he asked.

 

“No, should I get one?” she asked, amused by the question.

 

“Dunno. I was just asking if you had any. You seemed to like mine so much,” he stated. He gave her a small smile. “If you wanted one, what would you get?”

 

“Hmmm, I don’t know…  It’s a sudden question.  What do you suggest?”

 

Ulquiorra thought about this question for a moment. What could possibly mean that much to Orihime that she wouldn’t regret? “You seem to like your hairpins,” he said.

 

“Hmm, sure, but I was thinking something different.  Maybe something to do with my new life,” she found his eyes and got lost in them for a minute as she thought about it.

 

“Woman, I want to paint you,” he said staring back at her. Ulquiorra felt overwhelmed with emotion that he said the first thing that came to mind. He must have sounded desperate.

 

Not the response she was anticipating, but alright.  When an artist is inspired, who was she to stand in the way?  “Ok,” the woman replied with a bemused smile.

 

He gave her a concerned expression then kissed her. “Not right now. Soon. Right now I just want to take you to my bed and kiss you until you’re unable to stand it, if you’re up for that.”

 

Her cheeks darkened at his sudden proposal, which had made her feel shy.  She nodded.


	10. Let You In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EIV: THERE IS SEX IN THIS CHAPTER!  
> JKR: LOL. You didn't have to say it like that!
> 
> Also kids, don’t follow their example; have safe sex, mmkay?

Ulquiorra lay beside Orihime on his bed. It didn’t take long for them to leave the studio portion of his apartment and climb the ladder to his bedroom. He had pounced on her once they were at the top. They made out for a bit until he called for a break because he _so_ did not want this to be a repeat of the other night. He wanted to make this last and draw it out. “Woman?” he asked, twisting his body and looking at her. “What happened in the time between my death and four years ago? You mentioned another war.”

 

She closed her eyes and nodded, keeping them closed for a moment while she recalled some things, then opened them again and met his gaze.  “There was. There were many casualties. It was sorrowful.”

 

He frowned and touched her face, letting his fingers trail from her forehead down her cute nose. “That’s unfortunate. It wasn’t anything like the Winter War, right?”

 

“Not exactly, but not completely different, I suppose.  There was this guy, Yhwach, who was apparently the predecessor of all the Quincies.   He wanted to kill the Soul King and make all the dimensions collide and more or less disappear?  I think? No one really bothered to explain it to me properly. Anyway, Urahara took me and Sado to Hueco Mundo and we helped organize hollows there to fight against the Quincies.  They had bases set up there and in Soul Society. After the Quincies in Hueco Mundo were defeated, we returned to Soul Society to help the shinigami. Grimmjow and Nel joined us.

 

The battles in Soul Society were much worse.  Of the thirteen court guard captains, three were killed, well, one was made the new soul king but that is not exactly being alive.  Captain Kuchiki was also very badly injured and nearly died. Many of the lieutenants were killed or maimed. It was a bloodbath. Aizen surprisingly lent some support but he was left in captivity after all was said and done.

 

He who shall not be named,” she said with an ominous tone before continuing, “discovered he was some shinigami human hollow quincy hybrid and became immensely powerful.  He didn’t revert to that thing that killed you. He asked me to help him in a final battle against Yhwach. I failed. In the end, _Uryu_ was instrumental in killing Yhwach.”  She ended the story with a deep breath, having kind of rambled it all out quickly in an effort to disseminate as much information as possible.

 

Ulquiorra scowled. That was a lot of information to digest. The only thing he understood was the name of the person who turned him into an Arrancar. “Aizen is alive?”

 

“Yes, he was sealed by Urahara but as far as anyone knows he is unable to be killed.”

 

Silence followed. One of these days, he would have to make a visit to Urahara’s and get some answers from the ex-Shinigami. “You said you played a part? Did you actually find your backbone?” he asked.

 

“What?” she asked, offended.

 

That didn’t come out right at all. Ulquiorra knew he had to backpedal a bit. “I mean you actually had the guts to fight...” He sighed. This wasn’t the way he planned for this to go. Curiosity killed the cat… and it certainly was killing the sensual mood that had been there before. “Forget it. I just wanted to know.”

 

“You wanted to know whether or not I was spineless.  Real nice,” she said, twisting her mouth and raising her brows.  “I was _never_ spineless.  I went with you, didn’t I?  I made a choice and followed it through.  Yes, I am not an offense player. I never have been.  It’s not my way. That never made me spineless,” she was _pissed._

 

“To be fair, I threatened the lives of your friends. I maimed those Shinigami in the Dangai to show you that I could do it,” Ulquiorra murmured. He could tell she was angry. “You weren’t spineless. You had the courage to slap me.”

 

“Ha!” she laughed.  “That wasn’t courage, my friend.  That was just blind rage. I was _lucky_ you didn’t react.  As for going with you in the dangai, you know it really wasn’t necessary for you to hurt those shinigami; your presence alone was enough to convince me that there was nothing I could do to contradict you.  You had enough power in the tip of your little finger to blow the whole place up. My ability to detect spiritual pressure is a lot better than you think.”

 

“Oh we’re just friends now? I see,” he gave her a smile that hopefully conveyed he was teasing. “I don’t have any spiritual pressure now. I know that much.”

 

She smiled in return, glad that he broke the tension.  “I know. And I’ll tell you, I was rather awed by your power, but I much prefer this version of you.”

 

Ulquiorra looked at her for a moment. The only thing he had gotten from her when he had met her as a Hollow was the fact that she was not happy about the situation she was in nor did she like him. The only thing that changed that way of thinking was on top of the dome when she reached out for his hand. “Why this version? Human me is boring. I can’t fly. I can’t warp really fast to different locations. I can’t even stand in the sky or flatten anyone anymore.”

 

Her smile expanded and she looked down at his bare chest, touching the hollow hole tattoo.  “No, you can’t. But you are intact. You are warm. You can kiss me,” she said, slowly bringing her eyes back up to his face.  “You are real. No degradation of my spiritual awareness is going to change my perception of this version of you.”

 

He thought he had been calmed down enough but as soon as she touched him, that wanting returned, stronger this time. “I could have kissed you as an Arrancar. I didn’t think it’d be appropriate or wanted,” he stated. Ulquiorra smirked. “Besides you wouldn’t have wanted the dead guy.”

 

She laughed.  “I never thought of you as dead until you turned to ash, you know,” her smile faded a bit after she said that.  “Anyway, I was still only a child then, really. Kind of. No, that’s a lie. There are things about me that you can’t have learned just by watching me for two months.  I grew up too fast before I was ever a blip on your radar. _Anyway,_ despite what happened, with you taking me and all, I did feel some form of… affection?  Camaraderie? In a warped sense…”

 

“I know nothing about you really. I know when your birthday is. I know your full name. I know about your brother. I knew about your friends. I’ve seen your body but. I. Do. Not. Know. You.” Ulquiorra enunciated the last few words.

 

“Well, what would you like to know?  Ask me anything,” she said with a lazy grin.

 

“Favorite food? Color? Do you actually like what you do as a career?”

 

“Hm, favorite food would be… a tough decision, but probably eggs.  Done almost anyway except hardboiled. Color?” she pursed her lips and looked down, embarrassed.  “Green,” she paused then said, “I love what I do. It’s so exciting to feel like I’m part of something and to have my contributions recognized and my ideas emulated.  What about you? What’s yours?”

 

He never thought about this. It never occurred to him that he liked something so much that it was his favorite. “Uh, there is a cafe around here that has an amazing Paella. I like eating that. Also French toast. Uh, also green but I tend to go for colors that are closer to my eye color… Uh, there’s a word for it… Jewel-toned.”

 

Ulquiorra paused for a moment before he looked around the room. He couldn’t see his two favorite paintings from the bed but he slowly nodded. “I wanted something to remember you by. I knew that you were going to leave Las Noches and I wanted to capture a memory of you. That’s why I started painting. That’s the only skill I could capitalize on when I found out I was alive. You were the only thing I wanted to paint though.”

 

She took his hand and threaded her fingers through his, bringing them up to her mouth and kissing the back of his hand.  “And now? You don’t need an image to remember me anymore.”

 

He wanted to restrain himself but she was innocently unraveling his resolve. It was quickly crumbling. “I’ll sell _Midori No Ai_ … but I’m keeping _The Woman and the Moon_ ,” Ulquiorra murmured before leaning over, kissing her. His hand came up, resting against the side of her breast then trailing down her side.

 

She sighed at his touch and reciprocated, bringing her hand up to his now permanently exposed neck and kissing him back, only to break it and purr, “Did I tell you how much I like your haircut?  And why part with _Midori no Ai?”_

 

“You might have mentioned it… Once or twice but it’s always nice to hear it again.” He whispered. “Because soon, I’m going to paint a better version of it. A nicer version of it. One where your nose is perfect.”

 

She kissed the tip of his nose.  “Okay, love, whatever you want,” she murmured, not being especially thoughtful with her language.  She captured his lips again and put her tongue in his mouth, the hand on his neck scratching a gentle line down to his shoulder and back up.

 

Ulquiorra’s thoughts stuttered when he heard her. Love? _Love_? He couldn’t dwell on it because she was touching him again and it felt good so his mind quickly occupied itself with the sensations he felt. He hated how fast his mind could flip between one thing to the next without a second thought. “What I want is you,” he said before pushing her onto her back. Ulquiorra moved so he was on top of her, Orihime’s legs opened by his hips. He returned to kissing her mouth and made his way down her chin then neck. “Mmmm… You smell nice too, Woman.”

 

She only smiled and hummed in response, too wrapped up in what he was doing to her neck and the pressure of his weight on her hips.  A fleeting thought occurred to her that perhaps they should slow down. She disregarded it. Fuck going slow. Fuck being cautious. He told her he had been in love with her for four years, right?  He said she had “brand loyalty”, right? So what was there to worry about? She raked her fingertips up and down his back, holding him close to her.

 

He made his way up to her ear, nuzzling the curve of it. Ulquiorra kissed the area right below her ear and smirked when he heard her whimper. It wasn’t very loud but he still heard it. He wondered what other sounds she would reveal. What would she sound like if he sucked on that area? What about if he bit it? Slowly he made his way down her neck to the base of her throat, in between her collar bones. He wanted to mark her right where his Hollow hole had been but he just kissed the flesh.

 

She whined softly and thrashed her right leg somewhat, frustrated by how gentle he was being.  Her blood was on fire. When her right foot made contact with the mattress again, she pushed against it, arching her body into his.

 

Hnnngh. His brain was once again going into overload. The way she moved against him felt more enjoyable than anything else. Ulquiorra pulled away from her and sat back kneeling on the bed. He made sure she was watching as he unbuttoned the jeans and then unzipped them. Biting his lip, he waited for her to say something; to stop him as he pushed them down his hips. It took a bit of struggling but he finally threw the pants onto the floor and sat there between Orihime’s legs with just a pair of boxer-briefs on.

 

She watched him with hungry eyes, and when he was finished, kneeling before her, she suddenly felt overdressed.  She wasn’t sure if he was the kind of guy who liked to unwrap a gift or just have it delivered to him on a platter, so she waited for some kind of cue from him, the whole while looking his body up and down and breathing heavily.

 

All he did was raise an eyebrow at her before he started pushing up the hem of her dress. It didn’t take long before Ulquiorra had it off of her. He shook it out and then laid it at the foot of the bed. Then his emerald green eyes stared at her. The strapless bra was cute but it would soon be gone. The panties were innocent but romantic looking but they’d be hitting the floor soon too. The lace was a nice touch, so was the bow. “Huh, I get matching lingerie. Nice,” he said before he lowered his face back to her chest. Carefully, as not to scare or startle her, Ulquiorra pressed his face into her cleavage, kissing and licking the skin there.

 

She cooed.  This was heaven for sure.  She was present enough though to appreciate his remark, and responded in a breathy voice, “Well, I figured it was either this or nothing.  I didn’t know what would work better for you.” Again, she had no problem just laying her intentions bare. With him, it always felt like she didn’t have to hide her true self.

 

“It didn’t feel like you had anything on the other night,” Ulquiorra said looking up at her. He placed a kiss on the top of one tit before doing the same to the other. “That dress you wore was tight. I would have been able to tell if you had anything on underneath. Why don’t we recreate that?”

 

She smirked.  “You’re right about the other night, she admitted, raising her back off of the mattress a bit and shimmying her elbows up and under her to provide access to the clasp if he wanted it.  “Markus’ orders, ‘ _No Undies!’_  It sounds much more risque than it is,” she said with a small giggle.

 

His mouth went dry. Had he not been some emo bastard this could have happened much, much sooner. “It sounds hot,” he finally managed to say. Ulquiorra reached behind her with one hand, snapped his fingers in a way that the bra came undone. He pulled back and waited for her to remove it. He was going to let her dictate how things went. If Orihime wanted to show him what was under that piece of clothing, she would show him.

 

He didn’t have to wait long for his answer, as he sat up, she looked down at herself to see that the bra cups were still in place, then looked up to his face.  The fire in his eyes was evident, his pupils dilated and irises minimal. With a demure smile, she lifted a hand to the center of the garment and pulled it down slowly.  When her nipples sprung free, she cast it aside, somewhere near the dresser or in its general direction. She looked back to Ulquiorra to see his reaction.

 

“Fuck.” was the only word that came out of his mouth. His voice sounded rough, filled with a low gravelly tone. Ulquiorra just sat and stared before he reached a pale hand out and touched the outside curve before placing his entire hand over her breast. They were perfect. They were nice. They were heavenly… That was the only way he could describe her tits. Ulquiorra let his fingers run over one nipple then his other hand decided it wanted to join in on this. He lifted his eyes to her face before he brushed his thumbs over those buds of sensitive skin.

 

She closed her eyes and pleasure washed over her face, exhaling a wanton breath as he touched her, her chest sinking with it, causing her breasts to wobble under his palms.  Her body rose when she inhaled again, sharply. Her eyes opened halfway and met his. They almost appeared to hold an unspoken challenge.

 

Lowering his head to her chest again, Ulquiorra let his nose touch the skin before his lips did. He wasn’t slow about it this time. After kissing a line between her breasts, he enveloped one nipple with his mouth, tongue flicking over the tip rapidly. He heard himself groan. A few moments later he switched to the other one but this time he glanced up at her before his mouth attached itself to her skin.

 

She mewled and writhed, and was having a hard time keeping her eyes open.  The sight of him latched onto her breast made her want to urge him to take off those boxer-briefs and get inside of her  _posthaste._ As it was, she was slightly worried that he would be taken aback by the state of her undergarments if and when he ever got there.  She didn’t think she had ever been so wet in her entire life.

 

“Something wrong, Woman?” Ulquiorra asked, laying his head on one breast, smiling at her. He could feel heat radiating off of her. He could detect the change in her movements and sounds. “You want to tell me what _you_ want or do you just want me to take my time?”

 

She whined a long, painful whine.  “You’re evil,” she cried softly, cupping his jaw and pulling his face up to hers and kissing him deeply.  She wanted to drink him. She wanted him to fill her. It was a deep, instinctual, difficult to articulate need.  “Ulquiorra,” she cooed, breaking the kiss before reaching her mouth to his ear and whispering, “I need you.”

 

It was once again hard for him to swallow because his mouth was dry. She _needed_ him? Why? How? With his previous sexual encounters, there hadn’t been much conversation. It was two parties with a mutual understanding of what the hell was gonna go down. This was so much more than that. This was something he’d been longing and yearning for a long time; for years and decades and centuries. He just didn’t know it was this human woman that would unlock the one thing he wasn’t supposed to have.

 

With a sigh, he sat up again, getting to his knees. He hooked his thumbs in the band of the boxer-briefs he wore and started to inch them down, studying her face carefully. Once he felt like he had teased her enough, Ulquiorra shoved the underwear down his thighs and knees then kicked them off.  

 

She was stunned.  She had seen dicks before; Uryu wasn’t exactly modest when he walked around the apartment, but this was different.  This was  _his._ It was erect because of her.  She couldn’t do anything except take shallow breaths and stare at it, her already flushed cheeks gaining a bit more color, and her heavy eyelids lifting and lowering with each breath.  She bit her lower lip after a couple seconds and dragged her eyes up his entire form. He was gorgeous. He deserved appreciation. “You…” she had to take another breath. “You are so sexy.”

 

“Am I?” He chuckled, trying not to let her reaction inflate his ego. He took a deep breath. It was the only thing that Ulquiorra could do to calm himself down. He reached for her letting his hands slide from her tits down her waist. He liked how she squirmed when he lightly tickled her. His fingers stopped on those frilly panties. His green eyes looked down. He could see the slightly darker fabric between her legs; those underwear were white but he could see the outline of her lips. Fuck. She had to be soaked. “You want me to take these down for you or...?”

 

She bit her lip and nodded.

 

His breathing became somewhat labored and he felt the tremble in his hands. It would really suck if this was all a dream to him. Ulquiorra wanted to pinch himself just to make sure that it was real. This wasn’t some hallucination. It didn’t take much to shift the lace and satin off her hips. It was no effort to drag them down her thighs. Once the lingerie had cleared her feet, he threw them to the side and then stared.

 

He was speechless, green eyes traveling over her naked body. This was Venus staring at him. “You want to say I’m sexy. Woman, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

 

Orihime was mildly surprised that she felt no fear or misgivings at her exposure, and smiled at his compliment.  “Ulquiorra…” She didn’t know how to complete her sentence. She didn’t have the words. Instead, she slowly bent her knees and drew them apart.

 

He had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. His teeth sank into his bottom lip because he wanted to tell her how fucking beautiful she was and how he just wanted to claim her and touch her. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to make love to her. This revelation threw him for a loop. He’d never done that before.

  
  
Ulquiorra had fucked. He had had sex.

  
  
This would be a first for both of them.

  
  
He shifted closer to her, bringing her thighs to rest on either side of his legs. He was observing everything she did, committing it to memory. His hand visibly shook as he reached out and touched her stomach, letting his fingers drift down her skin. It felt hot. His own skin felt like it was on fire and molten lava flowed through it instead of blood. When he reached the apex of her thighs, his breath caught in his throat.

  
Orihime wasn’t just wet. She was practically dripping and it was because of him.

 

She keened, and a soft but sharp, “ah” escaped her lips at his first touch.  He hadn’t done anything except make gentle contact, and already her world was upside down.  There was an involuntary jerk of her hips, and his fingertip just barely dipped between her dewy lips.

 

They should have discussed things better before taking their clothes off. He didn’t know what her whole being a virgin entailed so he was unsure how far to take this. Ulquiorra never really touched a woman like this either. The skin was slick and warm as he let his fingers glide down. His movements were slow as he touched Orihime, stroking the skin. It didn’t take much for him to move his hand lower and slip a finger inside of her.

 

She had been touched before; this wasn’t altogether new.  But this was _him._  She knew this was just the beginning.  When his finger entered her, she held her breath, waiting for another to immediately follow.  When he didn’t make that move, she opened her eyes and looked at him. She was moved to see what looked like fear in his eyes.  If she hadn’t been somewhat afraid of freaking him out and having him stop, she would have told him she loved him.

 

Instead, she brought a gentle hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at her.  “You’re not going to break me,” she said and smiled. She hoped her eyes told him what her mouth wouldn’t.

 

Foolish. He felt foolish. Ulquiorra looked at Orihime, knowing his expression said he was apprehensive about this. He sighed and withdrew his hand from between her legs. Leaning down, he closed his eyes and kissed her. He had never experienced this before, this feeling of being afraid of what was going to happen.  
  
He could feel his cock brush against her body. He lined himself up then deepened their kiss, letting his tongue lap at her mouth. He pulled back enough to whisper to her, “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

 

She was ready. “Okay,” she whispered and pulled his face into hers for another open-mouthed kiss and tilted her hips, sliding one foot up the back of his leg, indicating her readiness.

 

Ulquiorra groaned as he pushed into her, the sound muffled by their liplock. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He had to take a moment and pause because he wasn’t sure how long this was going to last. She clung to him like wet clothing to a body. Tight. He broke their kiss and looked down at Orihime to gauge her reaction.

 

Her eyes were closed and her brow slightly furrowed as her body adjusted to this intrusion.  She breathed in a choked manner, taking a quick inhalation and holding it, then letting it out in a rush.  When she realized he had paused, her brow relaxed, and she looked at him. Her eyes widened as the realization hit her:  he was inside of her. They were sharing a body. She gasped and claimed his lips again, using her legs to urge him deeper.

 

Oh damn. He slid more of himself inside of her at her insistence, grasping at the sheets for want of something to hold onto. A jolt of pleasure ran down his spine and legs, rolling over him in waves as his hips touched her body. He did it. He was the first… He was Orihime’s first. It still felt surreal to him.  
  
Propping himself up with one arm, Ulquiorra looked down to see that his body was connected to hers. A quiet growl left him as he began to shift his hips to pull out of her core at a gradual pace.

 

This was all very overwhelming to Orihime. When he filled her completely, a deep, slow, guttural moan escaped her lips. This was bliss, despite the discomfort and pleasure warring for prominence in her mind.  On top of it, her emotions were firing rapidly, bombarding her brain with messages that should not yet see the light of day. Then, as he began to pull out of her, all those other feelings and sensations took a backseat to desperation.  She clawed at his back and lifted her hips as much as she could under his weight, fighting to keep him inside of her. She cried out his name.

 

“Shhhh,” he murmured. Ulquiorra felt her fingernails digging into his back. He didn’t know what to tell her. This was how it was done, wasn’t it? “Shhh, it’s okay.” He kissed her as his hips started moving in slow thrusts, back and forth. His breath hitched in his throat as his body touched hers again. “Fuck… Woman.”

 

“Yes?” she asked in a whisper.  Her breathing was slow and audible.  As he moved the discomfort she initially felt faded away and she was left only with a growing hunger, a need to increase the tension building in her where they were joined.  Each shift he made added another level to this increasingly frenetic need. He was moving in her, but she wanted more. She wanted to feel him lose himself in her. She was already lost.

 

“Are you okay?” He asked looking at her face, his eyes following every motion Orihime made. Ulquiorra paused again. He knew he wanted her. He wanted to pleasure her. He needed her. “I’m going to start moving. I need to know if you’re okay.”

 

She lifted her heavy eyelids and looked deeply into his eyes, her breath puffing into his face.  She took a moment to memorize this moment, the feel of their connected bodies, the intimacy she felt, the look of sweet concern etched into his brow.  She touched his cheek and raised her eyebrows slightly. “Yes, I’m okay. Please,” the request was implied.

 

That was all he needed. Ulquiorra let go of his grasp on the bedsheets and lifted his torso up further, using his arms to brace himself. That apprehension was still there. The staggering field of emotions was still there. He began to move in earnest this time. His thrusts less gentle and becoming more insistent. He wanted her to feel every inch that he could give her. He moaned out her name, closing his eyes against the wave of pleasure that washed over him.

 

Things were heating up for Orihime more quickly than anticipated.  Ulquiorra’s body fit to hers like a puzzle piece. She wondered for a brief moment if some divine being created each of them for the other.  The more powerful his thrusts, the higher his hips came off of the mattress, and the more she was able to move to meet him. Having some control over the angle of her hips only accelerated the approaching rise toward climax.  Her breath came faster, and she panted his name as his hips snapped into hers. She could feel every muscle in her body strain in waves as she chased something that seemed to be just beyond her reach. Without thought or censure, she reached between them and grabbed one of her breasts, choking out a ragged sob as the first of many small spasms began deep in her belly.  This wasn’t it. Not yet. But it was a preview of what was coming.

 

His strokes were long and then short, keeping it varied. Ulquiorra heard her. He felt her. He kept moving inside of her. He shifted his hips only a fraction angling them so that his cock would drag against her wetness in a blissful way. He opened his eyes to see Orihime, mouth open, chest heaving while she grabbed one tit. Her small hand did nothing to cover half of the skin. Just that thought almost sent him over the edge. The tension in his body was just about to break, he could feel it. Muscles coiled, his breathing jilted; he was becoming overstimulated.

 

She felt the change in him; the control he had exhibited was breaking and he was being overcome.  The sound of his strangled breath pleased her, knowing that it was her body giving him such enjoyment.  She opened her eyes slightly to see the skin of his throat and that tattoo he had gotten with her in mind.  She was all over his body. Her ragged breaths turned into loud cries as her orgasm snuck up on her, somewhere between realizing his pleasure and his devotion.  Her body twitched violently, and her passage clamped down on him as he tried to move, then fluttered loose before doing it again and again and again.

 

Calling out her name, Ulquiorra felt the pulses go through her body. She was coming on him. It didn’t take much for him to slam into Orihime’s body once more and then still his hips. He growled at the sensation of his orgasm, rippling down his nerves. He was coming inside of her, and her body hungrily took every bit of what he gave her.  As soon as he could and when his legs didn’t feel boneless, he rolled off of Orihime and lay beside her, trying to take deep breaths.

 

Orihime stilled.  She breathed in slow, shuddering breaths and exhaled quickly.  She dropped a forearm over her brow and took another deep breath, this time making a long, “ooh” sound.  “Well.” she breathed, “I’m not a virgin anymore,” she said in a small, giddy voice, and giggled for a moment.

 

Ulquiorra chuckled but it was short-lived because he was still trying to remember how his lungs worked. He shook his head. They just had phenomenal sex and that’s all she could say? “Yeah, you’re definitely not a virgin anymore, Woman.”

 

She panted a bit more after the smile faded a bit, then rolled over to her side to face his profile.  “Um, I don’t know what people usually do or say after that, but, um, thank you?”

 

He laughed this time. “I have no clue. This is about the time that bitches have to go. Not you though. You can stay here with me and you’re not a bitch. You’re my princess and my Queen.” Ulquiorra was babbling so he didn’t keep himself restrained or in check. He was feeling the rush of endorphins through his body.

 

“Hmm, I could get used to hearing you call me that,” she teased.  “But what, then, do I call you, brave sir knight?” she asked with a silly accent.  Apparently, her giddiness wasn’t gone after all.

 

“I’m your sword,” he said with a smirk. He turned to face her and threw an arm over her waist, cuddling her. “I’ll always be your Espada, Orihime.”

 

She tried to suppress a smile.  Despite the connotation, she still found what he was saying somehow endearing.  She did he best to level a deadpan single eyebrow raise and said, “Well, you certainly did _impale_ me.  And besides, I bet you say that to all the Aizens and princesses, don’t you?” she snarked, following it up with an immature laugh.

 

“You know...” he said but then shook his head. He wanted to laugh. “People say I’m perverted but you just made a completely childish joke. I’ll impale you again and again before morning.”

 

She grinned widely and laughed.  “Well, I don’t mind if you do, but I’m going to need a break after that or I’ll lose consciousness.  Nobody ever told me it was _that_ good!”  she cheered, still laughing.

 

“Hey, uh, Woman...” Ulquiorra was hesitant to even say anything. He set caution on fire and threw it off of a mountain. It didn’t seem right to ask if she was on kind of pill or anything. Instead, he grinned, “I--I lo--I need you too.”

 

“I love you too, Espada,” she said, dropping her head into his chest and taking a deep sniff of his soap mixed with sweat.  If possible it smelled even better. She was suddenly exhausted. “Um, we’re going to have to stop by a drugstore tomorrow though,” she murmured.

 

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Any reason why?” Ulquiorra asked, feeling like a dumbass for not taking some precautions. “Don’t fucking tell me… Orihime, are you on birth control?”

 

“No.  I had no reason to be,” she answered,  completely unconcerned. “But I assume fatherhood would kind of cramp your style, so a little emergency contraceptive will be in order.”

 

“Fuck.” Ulquiorra sat up and looked at her. “It would cramp your style too. You--We--Ugh. The one--” He flopped back on the bed. He couldn’t even say what he wanted because the irritation that flooded his brain. “You should have said something… Like put on a condom or hey, pull out. Not let me bury my dick so deep it would take a shovel to get me out.”

 

“Calm down, it’s not a big deal.  As long as I take it in the first 12 hours it’s very effective.  But yeah, we should have talked about it… I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen, you know.  And yeah, I guess a baby would cramp my style but that’s not really the point. I don’t know proper sex etiquette so, sorry.”

 

Calm down? Calm down? This was serious. She was a model with no family. He was an artist... well, he was a dead soul inside of a fucked up body who moonlighted as human sometimes. They hadn’t known each other long… “I know what the point is. You think I’m gonna go out there and chase anything in a skirt. You’re wrong woman. I’ve never fucked anyone without protection.” He sighed, knowing he was overreacting. “We’ll go with your idea.”

 

She frowned at him.  “I never said I thought you would be chasing skirts but thanks for putting that idea in my head.  I’m glad I was your first stupid mistake though. Anyway…” she trailed off, kind of having the wind knocked out of her sails.

 

“Hime… c’mon. I said what I said and I meant it.” Ulquiorra murmured to her, laying down beside her again. He didn’t like using nicknames but he thought he would try it out. See if it could shift the mood a bit. “I said I was done.”

 

“I know, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	11. Strike a Pose

Orihime woke up first.  Ulquiorra was sound asleep, on his side, covered up to his chin with the blanket.  She smiled and stretched, waiting a bit to see if he would wake up, but he was out.  She got out of bed and walked over to his side, picking up her discarded clothes as she went and quietly swiping a pair of his underwear from the drawer before carefully kissing his head and going downstairs to take a shower.

 

When she got out of the shower he was still sound asleep, and she had an important errand to run.   It had only been about 12 hours, but she thought it wise not to waste time and make haste to the drugstore.  She sent Ulquiorra a text:

 

  * _Going to the drugstore.  I’ll bring back breakfast.  Xoxo_



 

Ulquiorra woke up about fifteen minutes later. That woman had worn him out but it felt nice. He stretched, still under the blankets and then felt the bed for the body that was supposed to be beside him. His hands felt nothing. Lifting his his head he saw he was the only one in the bed. His heart sank somewhat.

 

It figured she wasn’t there. She was probably still angry about the whole aftermath of their unprotected fucking. The other two times that they had sex he had pulled out, coming on her stomach. She whined about it. Ulquiorra wasn’t dumb. He wasn’t going to take a chance.

 

He was in no shape to become a father nor did he want kids. He was too much of an asshole to be responsible for another person. Besides his moods didn’t allow for anything that intensive. He should have used a condom.

 

With a shake of his head, the dark-haired man sat up on the bed and looked around. Orihime’s clothes were gone. Maybe she had left. This day was not going as planned. He wanted to wake up beside her, to see that familiar face. It wasn’t going to happen. He got out of the bed, and put on a pair of sweatpants. A few moments later, he was at his computer desk, typing a password. His phone was laying beside his keyboard.

 

He’d forgot to plug it in last night. It was completely dead.

 

His thoughts had been more on the redhead than anything else. It didn’t take much to do that now. Then he went through his morning routine using the bathroom and then making himself a cup of coffee. When he wandered back to his desk, his phone lit up with a notification. Orihime had sent him a message.

 

_\- I thought we were going together… ??? You could have left a note._

 

She was halfway up the stairs again when she got his message and decided to just wait until she got there to explain.  It took another seven minutes to reach his floor, and when she did, she didn’t wait to catch her breath to knock, arms laden with two cups of coffee and a bag of yogurt and poached egg sandwiches.

 

Standing at his sink, he was rinsing the mug he had used out with hot water when he heard the knock. It took a couple of steps and he twisted the knob, opening it. Oh. The woman stood on the other side. “You could have just walked in,” Ulquiorra said moving to the side.

 

“Sorry, it’s your place, I didn’t think it would be right,” she said, setting the bags and coffees on the floor just past the genkan and taking off her shoes.

 

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. He was relieved that she was back. “Woman, you slept here last night. You can come and go as you please.”

 

She looked up at him with a twinkling smile as she finished untying her shoes.  “That’s awfully hospitable. How did you sleep? I’ll tell you; I’m kinda sore,” she said, bending back and forth sideways and arching her spine, making a show of it for his benefit.  “My legs almost collapsed on the stairs,” she added with a smirk.

 

“I slept like a rock. That happens when you get fucked as good as I did,” Ulquiorra said with a smirk. “Just next time… leave a note.”

 

Her smile sweetened and she approached him and kissed his mouth.  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, then went to the kitchen to set down the food and the bag from the drugstore.  “Um, where do you keep your glasses? I need some water.”

 

Ulquiorra took a deep breath and nodded. He turned around and opened one small cabinet. He got a glass then filled it with water for her. “Next time we’re using protection or something. I don’t want to but usually, I don’t do that kind of thing.”

 

She smiled and nodded as she read the instructions on the back of the medication box and said absently, “I could always just reject it, if worse came to worst. But honestly, I don’t know if I would be able to go through with that.”

 

“We don’t need that right now. You’ve got a career. I’m fucked up.” Ulquiorra sighed. He had never gone through anything like this and it was frustrating for him. “I wouldn’t want you to blame me for shit or regret that decision.”

 

“Right, we will just avoid it.  Down the hatch!” she said with a lilt and downed the medicine.  After she smiled she looked to him and said, “They said there could be some mild side effects, so if I start turning into an evil dragon, do not be alarmed,” with a little chuckle.

 

His brow furrowed as he watched her. What did she mean avoid it? Avoid what part of it? Did she mean not having sex again? That was unacceptable. “What kind of side effects?” He asked.

 

“Well I don’t know how much you know about women’s bodies but basically it might make my next cycle’s timing off and may cause changes in the levels of bleeding.  More or less. There’s a small chance of more serious side effects but I was assured it was extremely rare.”

 

“I know nothing about a woman’s body. I don’t even know much about my own body.” Ulquiorra shook his head.

 

“Oh honey,” she said with a pitying look.  “We’re going to have to fix that. And for someone who doesn’t know much about it, you sure know how to enjoy it.”

 

He gave her a smirk. “Are you complaining?”

 

“Hardly,” she said, looking down at her hands and blushing, her eyelashes fluttering up to check his expression and then going back.

 

Ulquiorra was surprised at the flash of desire that went through him. This was a new sensation for him. He had to distract himself or else he’d end up fucking her on the floor. “You said something about breakfast?”

 

“Oh yeah, I got some egg sandwich things from the cafe around the corner.  They smell good. You hungry?”

 

He nodded. “Woman, can I ask a question?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Why did you let me do that to you last night?

 

She blushed again.  She looked down again.  “There are a lot of reasons.”  Her blush intensified. She was bashful.

 

“Thank you,” Ulquiorra said. He was feeling emotional and saying that to her felt like he had revealed too much.

 

His choice of words tugged at her heart.  Did he feel unworthy? Her eyes shot up to him and saw that he was struggling with something.  “Why are you thanking me?” she asked gently, the urge to hold him becoming nearly unbearable.

 

He shrugged. “You thanked me last night. I didn’t deserve it.”

 

She sighed and approached him, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up to his face.  “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s wrong, I can assure you. First, I thanked you because you made my first time feel good.  Most women can’t say the same. Also sorry for the blood,” she stopped to make an embarrassed face, twisting her mouth to the side. “Anyway, I also thanked you because…” she blushed for the third time that morning, “Because of ‘brand loyalty’.”

 

His face and ears colored. Oh. She hadn’t just been thanking him for the sex. “It’ll come out when I wash them. Or my housekeeper will see them and get it out. Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Ew! No!  I’ll wash them today!” she nearly shouted, pulling away and making her way back to the ladder.  There was no way she was letting some stranger see that, nor was she going to let him sleep on it for god knows how long.

 

He laughed and followed her. He didn’t see the point in washing them when they were probably going to get dirty again. Ulquiorra watched her as she climbed the rungs and disappeared into the loft. “We could get them even messier,” he said loudly.

 

She head reappeared and she looked down at him from over the sidewall.   Her blank face revealed nothing, just regarded him for a long moment, then she responded, “Put those egg things in the fridge then.”

 

He grinned and went to do as she demanded. His shortened head of hair appeared at the top of the loft a minute later.

 

***

 

Ulquiorra gave a content sigh. He was happy, well as happy as he could be with this messed up human brain. Whatever. He could be a happy artist, couldn’t he? He didn’t need to mope or brood to be credible. Right?

 

He was currently staring at a new version of Midori No Ai. The current version did not show Orihime’s ass and had that green sheet draped over the front of her body. It just bared her back and the curve of her breasts. He even got the shape of her nose right this time. It helped that he had stared at her face for hours on end. He’d used the photographs and the photos on his phone to sketch out the second painting. This one would be kept light instead of having a dark background.

  
  
It was around 2:30 am and he was still painting. He’d woken up from a dead sleep and decided that he needed to do this and it needed to be done now. Ulquiorra had left Orihime in his bed naked and asleep, climbing down the ladder quietly. He hated when these bursts of creativity came. He always followed them instead of brushing them to the side.

 

Swirls of color, dots, and dabs of paint; angry brushstrokes that darkened the canvas with images that lived in his mind. It was how he got his more abstract pieces of art. Those sold faster than his Hueco Mundo pieces. The first thing people asked was how much the ones of the woman cost.

  
  
He could see the attraction; her appeal. It was addicting as any drug. He constantly wanted to be in her presence. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to hear her. Ulquiorra craved to touch her. Most of all he needed her. He liked having Orihime around. She was a bright spot in his day. If he was down or was moping, she’d do something silly or tell a joke and it would all be okay.

  
  
They had carried on this thing that they had for several weeks. He was constantly telling her to come over after she was done with whatever commitment she had dedicated herself to that day. Most of the time she was with Markus. A lot of the time, she was with that Quincy.

 

Ulquiorra had seen how desperately she tried to fit in with those people. She stood out like a sore thumb. They were tall. Orihime was tiny. They were twigs posing as humans. The woman had curves in all the right places. He only got to see the model and social part of her life because she would drag him out of the apartment. It was always the same thing… _Markus will be there. It will be good for your image._

 

What image needed nurturing? All the art critiques thought he was a freak and a loner. Another sigh left him.

 

He wasn’t a freak. Those humans didn’t understand him. How could he be a normal human when he didn’t remember being one? All he remembered was his life in Hueco Mundo as a Hollow. The only person who seemed to understand him was that woman. The one he had kidnapped years ago. The one he had threatened.

  
  
She said she loved him and she was falling for him. Ulquiorra had to wonder why she even gave him a second thought. He’d been nothing. He was nothing. He was just some dumb male who made pretty and disturbing images for a living. Orihime could find someone better than him. She had told him he was being insecure. She had asked him what he was so afraid of.

  
  
Ulquiorra couldn’t answer her. He didn’t even know the answer.

 

So, he waffled about the subject and dodged her questions. Once or twice he had closed himself off from her. Ulquiorra could see how much that hurt her. Sometimes it couldn’t be helped. When the ideas stopped coming, the “emo” side of him came out… At least that’s what that stupid blond fashion designer called it.

 

Ulquiorra called it a vicious cycle. He was constantly giving into the ideas that he had, letting them take charge and sometimes the barrel was dry, leaving him to sit and think about how he could tempt the mistress of creativity back into his fingers.

 

His current muse had to work and go to school. She had to sleep. She had social obligations to attend because if she became a shut-in like him, Orihime would lose her place in the design world. She probably thought he was a needy loser at times with how he would cling to her desperately before she left for a function or a photoshoot.

 

“If you just agreed to being a model for Markus, you could come with me.” Her voice would sing-song those words, tempting him for a moment.

 

The dark-haired man never gave the designer a solid, concrete answer about the test shots. He managed to avoid those conversations like the plague but he knew one of these days, he wouldn’t be so lucky.

 

Almost an hour later, Ulquiorra put his brush down after cleaning it off. Studying the painting, he knew it was going to be sought after. This piece had the same careful and crafted composition as The Woman and the Moon. He’d poured devotion into that painting and he practically had people snapping at his heels for it.

 

He climbed up to the loft and slowly got back into bed, cuddling with Orihime, while she slept.

 

Orihime, as always on mornings like this, hummed and snuggled into his embrace, feeling completely safe and peaceful.   If she only knew what he was thinking, she might have been more cautious. But ignorance is bliss. And for Orihime, this was bliss.

 

She woke up in earnest about an hour later.  Ulquiorra had wrapped himself into the blanket like a burrito again.  She giggled and kissed his temple. He was dead to the world. She was due at Markus’ studio in a little over an hour so she went down the ladder and hopped in the shower.

 

It was a lot easier to get ready at his place these days; he had insisted that she make herself at home and she had slowly been migrating much of her everyday essentials over to his place.  She hadn’t slept in her own bed for eleven days now.

 

Standing under the soothing stream of hot water, Orihime’s mind wandered to the future.  What would hers look like with Ulquiorra? As far as she was concerned, it was a foregone conclusion that they would always be together.  He would always brush it off when she said it, but she was completely in love with and devoted to him. She enjoyed how he would always ask for one more kiss before parting and how he would send her texts all day when they were separated.  The only thing she would change about him was his tendency to doubt her. It made her sad.

 

She had bought a white board for his place and put it on a shelf near the genkan so she could leave notes for him on mornings like this.  Today she wrote: “At Markus’. Wanna have lunch? Let me know. Love you.”

 

She drew a little heart with a smiley face beside the message.

 

She got to Markus’ a minute late.  Uryu was standing at the reception desk, absolutely livid.

 

“What the hell, Hime.  Not only do you never sleep at home, but now you’re coming in to work late?  Where have you been?”

 

“You know where I’ve been, Quin.  Like you, I’ve been staying at my boyfriend’s.”

 

“Oh, he’s your _boyfriend_ now?  The Espada?  Are you serious?”

 

She glared at him.  “Deadly serious, Quin. Back. Off.”  

 

The Quincy narrowed his eyes at her.  “You’re lucky Markus loves him,” he paused to sigh.  “And somehow, he’s good for your image. You have got to do me a favor though and get him to agree to do the shoot.  The way Markus talks about it, it’s like he thinks it’s a done deal,”

 

“I’ll talk to him again, but I can’t promise anything.”

 

“Really?  Orihime, I’ve seen you naked.  We’ve… you know. If you don’t have him wrapped around your little finger, then there’s something wrong.  Does _he_ know he’s your boyfriend?”

 

“Duh, Earth to Quin, of course, he does.”

 

Uryu rolled his eyes and began walking back to the studio space.  “Whatever. Earth to Boo, once a fuckboy, always a fuckboy.”

 

Orihime suppressed an urge to argue.  It would just be fruitless. Still, a tiny seed of doubt was planted in her mind.  When Ulquiorra didn’t text her around lunch, that seed began to sprout. Yes, he was endearingly clingy and said he loved her.  On the other hand, he had never defined their relationship. She referred to him as her boyfriend but she didn’t know if he spoke of her at all, and if he did, what would he call her? Did he talk about her to the neighbors or to his agent?  He didn’t have a very large social circle, and since they had gotten together, he rarely went out with anyone else. At least not that she knew of.

 

When he got up it was after one in the afternoon. Ulquiorra was toying with the idea of visiting Orihime while she was working but never did. He didn’t want to seem like the clingy or obsessive type of guy. He knew he came off that way though. He knew Orihime smiled and laughed when he did it but it seemed super lame. He also didn’t want to run into the designer. He didn’t want to have to tell him no. When he got downstairs. He did his wake up routine.

 

Ulquiorra shuffled into the kitchen, wanting coffee but saw her note first. It had him scrambling for the phone on his computer desk. He fumbled and almost dropped the device but quickly caught it before it hit the floor. He texted the woman.

 

_\- Sorry. Just woke up. I probably missed your lunch, didn’t I?_

 

She saw her phone’s screen light up where it sat on the make-up counter and grabbed it, smiling at his message. She replied,

 

  * _No worries.  Next time is fine.  Did you sleep well?_



 

The green-eyed man frowned at his screen. Could he tell her what was going on? He’d noticed over the days that had gone by that Orihime studied him a lot. He needed to trust her and confide in her, otherwise, this was just two people having sex with each other and enjoying the other’s company.

 

_\- Slept fine, like a rock. We need to minimize fucking into the early hours of the morning tho. I did get up to paint last night. Couldnt sleep._

 

He bit his lip then sent another text.

 

_\- Was thinking of coming by there? Can I?_

 

Her eyes lit up at his second text.

 

  * _definitely!  You’re always welcome by Markus and I would LOVE TO SEE YOU!!!!_



She grinned to herself as she pressed send.  Then she considered the previous one. She texted him again.

 

  * _No promises on curbing the sex though.  There’s only so much resistance I am capable of, lol._



 

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. He didn’t give a damn about the blond designer. He could get eaten by a hollow for all he cared. That wasn’t a very nice thought. It was how he felt. He was constantly feeling like people were trying to shove him in different directions and he needed room to breathe. He wanted to push these people away.

 

All the people that Orihime dealt with were like leeches! Anger rolled over his brain.

 

_\- Don’t care about Markus. Want to see you._

She knit her brows.  Every time Markus had come up in conversation lately, Ulquiorra had been increasingly surly about it; even when it had nothing to do with him.  Biting her lip, she replied.

 

  * _if you don’t want to see Markus that’s ok.  I can meet you later. I should be done here in a few hours._



 

Hours? He didn’t want to wait hours! Ulquiorra climbed the ladder again and quickly got dressed. He would have to deal with this situation sooner or later.

 

_\- Ok._

 

That’s all the text said. In a few minutes, he was out the door and going down flights of stairs. He’d show up at Markus’ place and surprise her.

 

Orihime sighed at his text.  She hoped he wasn’t upset with her; it was often difficult to tell.  He wasn’t very effusive about his less-than-amorous feelings. Her makeup was finished, she was told, and she glanced into the mirror with a bored expression, taking in the dark gray eyeshadow that extended from lash line to brow line and the harsh magenta blush on her cheeks.  She looked like a gutter clown. Oh well.

 

Markus‘ assistant brought her to a costuming area and talked to another assistant about which garments would be test photographed today.  There were four, and the first was a long, slightly baggy dress made out of a dark gray, metallic crepe silk. Honestly, Orihime thought it was kind of ugly.  Still, the fabric laid over her curves like poured mercury. It was only the part below her hips that hung like a trash bag. After she was dressed, she stood around waiting for almost 20 minutes for some student photographer to adjust lights.  She checked her phone as she waited. Nothing new from her unofficial boyfriend.

 

It didn’t take long for Ulquiorra to navigate his way to Markus’ space. He let himself in and saw the bored looking receptionist, sitting behind a desk. Everyone that worked with or for Markus had that same apathetic look.

 

“Can I help you?” the tone came out bitchy. “Mister Markus isn’t accepting--”

 

“I’m C. Murcielago. I’m sure that Markus will see me.” Ulquiorra scowled at the woman before she scampered off. When she came back she ushered Ulquiorra through a different door.

 

He found himself amidst a dozen people going back and forth. He saw the blond designer talking to someone. He took a quick look around for Orihime. She was short so it was probably a futile attempt to try and find her in this gaggle of people. He was just about to walk across the huge room when he felt something tug at his sleeve.

 

“You came!” an excited female whisper came from behind him.

 

Ulquiorra turned around to see a woman smiling at him… He looked at her up and down, raising an eyebrow. Red hair and dark eyes with a smile that could light up the world… His world. “Woman what have they done to you? Of course, I came.”

  
  
He finally looked beyond the horrendous makeup and down at her body. “Fuck,” he muttered.

 

“I know, don’t say anything but this whole look is just subpar.  And that’s me being nice,” she whispered to him, pulling back and shaking her head.  “Hopefully I’ll be out of this one sooner than later.”

 

The top half clung to Orihime like a wetsuit to skin. It looked damn sexy on her… However, the skirt was trash and he would tell the designer that. It did nothing to flatter his woman. “It’s an interesting getup. I’m hoping you’ll be out of it sooner than later too.” Ulquiorra gave her a smirk. “I’m sorry I slept in too long.”

 

She beamed at him.  “Don’t worry about it; you were working late, right?  You need your beauty sleep. I can’t be seen slumming it with someone who looks like death warmed over, you know,” she teased.  

 

He looked around before putting an arm around her and grabbing her ass through the dress. Not that he cared who saw them, it was more for her benefit than anything. He wanted to appear modest. “I woke up last night… I had a dream--nightmare… It woke me up.”

 

“Aw, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said, trying to be smooth with trying out the endearment, rubbing his arm and continuing before he had a long lull to protest.   “Want to talk about it? They’re going to be screwing around with the lights for the foreseeable future.”

 

“Only if we can talk somewhere private and I can...” Ulquiorra trailed off and grinned at her. “But seriously, I’m fine. I’ve been having the same dream for years. I just wake up and paint.”

 

“Do you want to talk, and I mean _talk_ , in the other room?” The redhead asked in a concerned tone.

 

“Do you think Markus would let us use his office?” Ulquiorra asked. He quirked an eyebrow at her then dropped the charming man gig. “Nah, Orihime, I’ve been dealing with it for the past four years. It’s the same dream over and over. Only it’s not a dream because it happened.”

 

Ulquiorra shook his head. “The dome,” he said to her.

 

She wrapped both arms around his elbow and hugged it.  “Me too.”

 

“I also came here today to tell Markus my decision,” Ulquiorra stated. “It’s about time I said--”

 

“Cif—  Murcielago, we’ve been waiting for forever to hear back from you.  Markus will be so pleased. Today is just test shots—“ Uryu was cut off by another voice.

 

“Ah!  At long last, my dear Murcielago has come back to roost!  Oh, glorious day!” Markus nearly sang as he glided through the space.  “Oh, and don’t you look well together with our little Booboo Bear, doesn’t he Uryu?  The chemistry is electric. I want to photograph you together now. You’re perfect as is.  Come on into the studio with me! This will be magic!”

 

“Wait a minute!” Ulquiorra said. His voice had become rather loud. “I never said I was here to do them. I came here because of Orihime.”

 

Markus looked at the dark-haired man with a befuddled expression.  “Isn’t that the same thing? She is fine on her own, but she comes to life when she’s paired with you.  Without Murcielago, sorry Boo, but you’re just a hot club girl with a banging’ bod’ that doesn’t model _that_ well.”

 

“You do not know anything about _my_ woman. My girlfriend is not the hot club girl that you all think she is. She’s smart, kind, and a hell of a lot more attractive than these half-wits you call models!” Ulquiorra seethed. The designer had managed to slam down all the buttons the would irritate him. “Fine. Photograph us.”

 

Orihime was breathless at his outburst and clung to his arm.  What Markus had said hurt, although she’d never show it. Emotional weakness easily translated into being “difficult to work with” and could get you blacklisted in this industry, especially as a woman.  She waited until Markus had turned around before she looked up at Ulquiorra with watery eyes and expressed her thanks quietly, squeezing his arm.

 

He didn’t like becoming irritated because he acted like a hot headed human, spouting whatever came to mind. He had told his neighbors that he had a woman. The Novelist had asked about Orihime’s well-being but Ulquiorra had told him that it wasn’t his concern. He didn’t want anyone to disrespect this woman. She had gone through too much to be insulted. He had endured too much to allow anyone to say anything rude about her. Ulquiorra gave her a side-eyed glance and then nodded. “It’s okay,” he murmured to her.

 

Uryu positioned the couple in the middle of the photo studio.  These were meant to be test shots only, so they only stood in front of a plain white backdrop.  Markus was going to be doing his own photography direction today, and Uryu was acting basically as his gofer.  

 

“Alright, I’m gonna need you to stand really close.  Yeah, that’s great Boo,” Markus said to Orihime as she pressed her front into Ulquiorra’s with her palms lying on his chest.  Markus indicated to the photographer to start and the sound of a high-speed shutter could be heard.

 

“Great,  now turn around  Boo, perfect. Look at me like you hate cheese and just smelled it.  Great! Now tilt your head back toward lover boy for a second. Yep. Murcielago, put your hands on her,” Markus ordered.

  
He’d been standing there with a flat look in his eyes. Ulquiorra looked at Markus balefully before he blinked slowly. His hands came up and fingers curled around Orihime’s hips. He did not like this man at all and was only going to do the minimal effort to get through this.

 

Markus liked where things started but was nowhere near finished.  “Ok, now bring one hand up to her throat like you’re a vampire or something, spend some time looking into her eyes and then kiss her.”

 

What did this man what him to do? There was no way that he could; not in front of the people milling about in the background. Markus had raised an eyebrow at him as if to say, “She’s easily replaceable”. The dark-haired man wanted to punch the blond. Could he do this? Ulquiorra bit his lip and glanced down at Orihime, bringing a hand up to her throat. He brushed his thumb down the skin on the front of it.

  
  
He could hear the camera shutters going off and Markus squealing like some demented pig in the background. When his eyes locked onto Orihime’s, Ulquiorra knew this photo session had the chance to become very not safe for work. The hand that was around her throat came up to her mouth and he brushed his fingers across the lipsticked surface before he brought his lips down on hers.

 

All he felt when he was around her was hunger. Craving. Desire. It was driving him mad; how much he wanted this woman was insanity.

 

“Oh, this is fucking fabulous,” Markus squawked, “Ok, now bring your hand that’s on her hip up to her breast and kind of sink your fingers into the fabric just a little bit, it’s going to highlight the texture perfectly!”

 

Ulquiorra wasn’t listening but his hands did as they were told. He felt the shiver go through Orihime’s body as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. The hand that was on her breast was trying to worm it’s way under the fabric. All Ulquiorra could feel was the heat of her skin. She had absolutely nothing in the way of a bra on under this dress. He vaguely wondered if this was one of those no panty dresses.

 

Markus looked at Uryu and raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge, then said, “Ok Spunk, go break it up.  Boo has to change.”

 

Uryu groaned and stomped toward the kissing couple, warning as he walked, “Ok, stop. Stop, stop.  Hime has to change.” When he reached them, Ulquiorra spared him a look with one eye and then ignored him. Uryu tried to appeal to Orihime as a roommate, grabbing her by the elbow and tugging.

 

Orihime pulled her mouth away in response and hissed, “What do you want, Quin!?”

 

Uryu sneered at her.  “Costume change,” is all he said before trying to drag her to the side.

 

One moment she was in his arms and the next, Orihime was gone, being dragged by that Quincy. He made a move to go after her but one of Markus’ assistants blocked him. Ulquiorra scowled, wanting to push everyone out of his way. He leveled a glare at the fashion designer as he waited for Orihime to get back to him.

 

“Don’t worry honey, you are perfection,” Markus cooed to Ulquiorra.  “Now for this next garment, Don’t be too blown away, Booboo looks drop dead in it.  Actually, I know I said no costume for you but your look is just too casual. Would you mind pulling your shirt off?  I remember you mentioning tattoos. It would be a great juxtaposition,” the designer presented his case.

 

It didn’t take much for Ulquiorra to whip his t-shirt off and drop it at his feet. He threw another nasty look at the blond before turning his body in the direction Orihime had disappeared. “Anything else you want?” Ulquiorra snapped.

 

“No, this is perfect,” Markus snarled in appreciation, looking Ulquiorra over and observing not only the variety of his tattoos but also his impressive build and freshly flushed cheeks.  He could not have planned this better if he tried.

 

The next moment, Orihime reappeared.  Her make up had been significantly softened and she was wearing a strapless black ballgown, the same one she had been wearing at a fitting weeks ago when she had been texting Ulquiorra about meeting and sleeping at his place for the first time.  Orihime looked stunning as she floated across the room to Ulquiorra.

 

His mouth dropped open. Green eyes took in every detail. She looked like a princess in that gown. No, she looked like a queen; a perfect match to his Segunda Etapa release. Ulquiorra held his right hand out to her and beckoned for Orihime to come to him.

 

Orihime approached him, glancing once at Markus, who seemed perfectly content to just let the two lovers do whatever they wanted as long as the camera was running.  Orihime looked back to Ulquiorra and took his hand. “Just act natural, but pretend like Boo is a princess and Murcielago is a fearsome creature trying to corrupt her, seduce her.  I’ll try to get you back on track if it gets out of control but otherwise have fun with it. Uryu, turn on some music, will you?”

 

Uryu complied, turning on a deep house mix that he found on Markus’ computer.

 

As soon as she was within his reach, Ulquiorra grabbed Orihime and pulled her to him. He tried not to rudely snort as Markus described what they were supposed to be doing. Little did the man know that had happened once in their lives already. He looked down at her with burning green eyes, wondering what the woman thought of all of this. She was looking at his chest. What was wrong? “Woman, are you afraid?” he whispered to her, knowing that her answer would be the same as the last two times he had asked.

  
  
She was never afraid. She had never been afraid of him, even as a hideous monster with horns, a tail and taloned feet. Orihime never showed fear in front of him.

 

He didn’t care if there was music. Ulquiorra didn’t care if other people were watching. He put a hand under her chin and tilted her face up, looking into her midnight eyes before kissing her again.


	12. Futures

Ulquiorra had a hard time waiting before he had Orihime pressed against the wall of the stairwell up to his apartment. His hand was on her neck. Fingers grazed her chest, and one of his thighs went between her legs. He could hear her whimper. He had done this every few floors, randomly and unexpectedly groping her from behind; turning her around to kiss her or in this case, he was touching everywhere he could. They had several floors to go before they reached his loft. This was only the ninth floor, and by the time they would make it to level twelve, one of them was going to crack under pressure.

 

Markus had been a clever orchestrator in what caused this behavior to surface. The fashion designer had all but let him have sex with the woman before the Quincy had called for another wardrobe change. It had left Ulquiorra feeling frustrated.

 

Ulquiorra wasn’t the only one.  His reaction to her in the black gown and Markus’ subsequent direction had kind of brought a vague fantasy to life. Orihime didn’t care if anyone caught them here in the stairwell.  Her mind was back on that dome in Hueco Mundo, only this time there was no Quincy or Shinigami to get in the way.

 

He pulled away from her, gazing down at Orihime, hands still touching her; teasing her. He was almost tempted to push her skirt up and unfasten his jeans, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Ulquiorra never had sex in public before. He had always brought his conquests to somewhere private. Tonight Orihime would be a conquest for him. He was so on edge that he had to back away from her further because that idea of fucking her there was a bit too ideal for him.

 

Orihime was not pleased with the space he had put between them.  She narrowed her eyes and grabbed for the collar of his t-shirt, trying to pull him back to her.  She wanted nothing better than to be pinned to that wall. She had no idea what was in store for her.

 

When her hand grazed his neck, Ulquiorra took whatever common sense he had and buried it, forgetting it. It didn’t take much for him to pick her up, letting the wall support most of her weight. This wasn’t something new either. He had fucked her against a wall in his apartment. His hands shoved the clothes up her legs so he could get access to where he wanted to be. Heat radiated off her. He could feel it.

 

She was once again soaked, and Ulquiorra had to chuckle as he pulled her underwear to the side, slipping one finger then another inside of her. Orihime’s gasp was satisfying.

 

Her insides gripped him, unwilling to let go of the intrusion. Orihime grasped the back of Ulquiorra’s neck with both hands and whispered into his ear, “Take me. Claim me. Make me yours.”  They were pretty words. Words from a dream she had had on and off for the past six years.

 

His brain function went to minimal power. That’s what her words did to him. No blood could be left in his head or other extremities because it seemed like every drop had pooled in between his hips. Ulquiorra took no time at all, undoing the fastening of his jeans before he shoved his cock roughly inside of her. He took a minute, letting the initial pleasure wash over him, shifting his hips to maintain those shocks. When he calmed down enough, Ulquiorra moved his lower body until his dick was no longer inside of Orihime. Then he thrust into her again.

 

She groaned.  It was not a soft, demure kind of thing.  It was a long, drawn-out, obscene vocalization.  She repeated it as he thrust into her again, panting into Ulquiorra's ear as he pulled out slowly.  Between pants, she muttered words that were seemingly streaming of consciousness, like Orihime wasn’t really there with him in the stairwell, but somewhere else.  She purred his name and whispered soft demands to fuck her. At one point she closed her lips around his earlobe only to pull back slowly and swear her allegiance to “my Espada”.

 

He wasn’t being gentle. Every time he slid inside of his girlfriend, Ulquiorra made sure his hips snapped against her. He heard every word she said; every moan; every noise. He wanted more even as she bit him. The dark-haired man wasn’t into pain, but during sex, it was heady and intoxicating. “I am _your_ Espada. You are going to obey every word I say, aren’t you, Woman?”

 

“Yes,” she hissed.  

 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you,” Ulquiorra rasped against her neck before returning the bite. His breathing was becoming labored. “I wanted to do this to you while you were in Aizen’s possession. I wanted to take you away from the fifth tower, to my quarters and keep you from that asshole. You are mine, Woman.”

 

“I _am_ yours.  My body and soul exist for your purposes.”

 

Ulquiorra growled. She seemed to know how to flip the switches he had to turn him on more. He angled his hips just so, knowing she could feel every inch as it slid against that wet skin. He made sure of it. “Can you imagine yourself being in that room in Los Noches, being fucked by me underneath that window?” He asked, whispering the question to her.

 

“I would lie on that sofa and spread my legs for you.  I did it in my dreams,” Orihime whispered back breathlessly.

 

His green eyes widened, and Ulquiorra pulled back to look at her. The intensity of his gaze did not lessen; he still had the same covetous yearning for her. Ulquiorra experienced all of the seven deadly sins for this woman. There was a reason why the Espada went to hell. Those glorified Hollows went to hell because they only knew those sins. He had evolved and went past those feelings.

 

He moaned loudly, before kissing her, letting his lips pry her mouth open. If he didn’t control himself, this was going to be over before he knew it.

 

She surrendered to him entirely, making way for his tongue to enter her mouth, stealing his breath, and holding herself on his shoulders as if they were glued on.  Her core wept, staining the front of his jeans, and began to pulse around him. She couldn’t hold back, whimpering into his mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks, as she came hard.

 

Ulquiorra didn’t hold back. He was too far gone before he realized what was happening. He knew exactly what he was doing. He broke the kiss and stared at her. With one final slam inside of her, he buried himself deep, not holding back his orgasm. He shuddered through it, feeling his body twitch.

 

Orihime’s aftershocks were intense and initially shortly spaced, and she had to keep gasping for breath each time one hit.  She used her legs to hold herself up, her inner thighs squeezing against her boyfriend’s hips as his own strength started to wane.  She had to bite her lip to stop herself from choking out ragged sobs as her sex seemed to take everything he gave her like a starved mouth.

 

Once their bodies stopped involuntarily moving, Ulquiorra huffed out a breath, extracting himself from the woman, then lowered Orihime back to the floor. He saw when her feet hit the concrete surface. After she was steady, he turned away, so that he could put his cock back into his jeans. When he was done, he looked at her, studying her. Did she realize that he believed every word she said to him? “Woman,” he said as she made herself decent.

 

“Hmmm?” she asked dreamily.  Her mind was not exactly in working order yet.

 

The former Hollow came to the realization that his girlfriend might have had fantasies about him as an Espada. From the look on her face, she seemed to be in a blissful state of mind. Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow as she smiled at him. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

 

She nodded at him with only partially opened eyes.  “Mmhmm,” she said with a small, dopey smile. “Did you like it?”  she mumbled the question.

 

“Do I need to carry you up the stairs? You look like you’re about to fall over,” Ulquiorra said then nodded. “I enjoyed that a bit too much, I think.”

 

She let loose a little cackle.  “I think we both did; I can’t feel my legs!”  She gave him a slightly embarrassed smile and giggled silently.

 

That made him roll his eyes. “Come, Woman and not like that… Well maybe in a bit. You’re correct though. I don’t think my legs could support both of us at the moment.”

 

Her wits were slowly returning to her as she shimmied her skirt back into place and started up the stairs.  “You mean my powerful Espada can’t even carry me up to his tower? Tsk tsk,” she teased, scurrying higher up the stairs away from him in case he decided to retaliate for her sass.

 

Shaking his head, he followed her up until they got to the top floor. Ulquiorra unlocked his door and went inside; he knew Orihime would follow him. He was about to step into the kitchen when he remembered his shoes. She was constantly saying the word shoes to him. He bent down and untied them, throwing them onto the floor once they were free of his feet. Then he walked into the studio part of his apartment and flopped down into his computer chair, staring at her.

 

She walked into the space and stared right back. “What are you thinking?” she asked.  She rarely asked such questions, but Ulquiorra had a peculiar look on his face; she had no way to comprehend it without asking.

 

“It’s nothing. Just--” he stopped his voice from even saying anything, running his fingers through his hair. He’d done it again. He’d been stupid and reckless again, but Ulquiorra was still riding the high from the pleasure that his girlfriend’s body gave him. He didn’t want to start a fight. “Are you going to the drugstore in the morning or am I?”

 

She reached a hand behind her neck and gave him an embarrassed smile.  They both should have known better, but in the heat of the moment, and even still now, remembering how hot it had been, she didn’t regret it.  “I’ll go,” she answered. “I’m still a relative nobody. It wouldn’t do to have C. Murcielago seen running to Tsuruha to get Plan B.”

 

He scoffed. “Fuck what others say. So what if I’m seen buying it. Do you think I care about what people say about me?”

 

“Not in theory, no, but in practice, it might be a hassle if you get gossip rag journalists following you around.  I mean I know an artist’s trysts aren’t as front-page worthy as say, the Prime Minister’s or some A-list actor, but it would still be a nuisance, don’t you think?”

 

“Isn’t there something… I could have something done to me to render me useless.” Ulquiorra looked at his hands when he said this. He really didn’t want to see Orihime’s face.

 

It’s a good thing he didn’t see it, too.  Orihime looked absolutely horrified. “What? No!  Ulquiorra, you’re much too young to make a decision like that.  What if you want to have children someday?”

 

His eyes opened and closed several times. His head tilted up and those vivid green eyes of his narrowed in on the redhead. “Why would I want to have more of me running around? Did you--Were you--Woman, there is no one out there in the world who would put up with me--I’m not procreating. One of me is enough.”

 

Her cheeks colored but she didn’t say anything.  Her eyes squinted the same way someone’s did when they looked into a bright light. A beat later she nodded and muttered, “I better take a shower and get out of these clothes, I won’t be long,” and walked to the bathroom.

 

It was the same thing, over and over. He constantly said something to make her unhappy. They were mostly off-handed comments, but each time he made a remark, he seemed to cut her verbally. He could sit in that chair and brood, but Ulquiorra didn’t think this was a good choice. He got out of the office chair and walked over to the bathroom door, knocking on it. “Orihime, I upset you. You know how I am.”

 

“No, I’m not upset,” she said through the door.  Her tone was surprisingly convincing. She was practiced at hiding her feelings.  “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“I’m going to worry about it. You’ve been thinking about stuff haven’t you?”

 

“I always think about stuff. What are you talking about?” she acted obtuse on purpose in an effort to stop him from thinking about this.  There were just some things that the former Espada would not be able to understand about her, and she was going to have to learn how to deal with that if she wanted this relationship to continue.  And she did. Orihime wanted it more than she wanted success in her career, she realized with a silent sigh, disappointed at herself for once again getting so caught up in a guy that her universe literally revolved around him.  She was hopeless. There was no way she would change her feelings.

 

“I’m talking about the future.” Ulquiorra sighed. “Come out here and talk to me. I can read your face better than I can read your voice.”

 

She considered refusing him.  It would be easier, and it was her first instinct, but when she heard the tender tone of his voice, she cracked.  She had already taken her clothes off, so she put on the bathrobe that hung behind the door and opened it.

 

He was standing right there. Ulquiorra looked down at her. Her face may have looked calm, but her eyes told a whole different story. “Tell me,” he said. “You’ve considered a future with me, haven’t you?”

 

She gave him a confused look for a moment.  “Of course I have. Haven’t you?”

 

“I’ve considered the pros and cons of it,” he replied. “I just assumed you would satisfy your curiosity and then move on. I don’t know what this brain is going to do next nor do I know what this body is going to do. I don’t have the same restraint I had as an Espada.”

 

Orihime pressed her fingertips to her temples and closed her eyes, breathing slowly through her nostrils, trying to not react emotionally to what he had just said.  How could he fucking say something like that to her now? Jesus Christ, had he no faith in her at all? No faith in himself? She was extremely disappointed and trying very hard not to take it personally.  She dropped one of her hands and the other came up to press the bridge of her nose, squinting her eyes closed. Very, very carefully she responded, “I am not _curious_ about you, Ulquiorra.  I am in love with you. The sincere, bottom of my heart, I-want-to-be-with-you-forever in love with you.  What you do or how you feel is up to you. There’s nothing I can do about it, but don’t try to use me and my feelings as an excuse, okay?”  She kept her eyes closed. She knew that despite not becoming hysterical, there was no way he wouldn’t take what she said and not freak out about it.

 

How could he be using her as an excuse? An excuse for what? He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. Ulquiorra felt lost. He’d been adrift in this human world and desperately trying to tread water just to stay afloat. Orihime came along and helped him swim to shore so to speak. He knew that if he called or texted she would respond; if he wanted her, she would be right there for him. He bit his lip then leaned down, quickly pecking her on the mouth. “Thank you, Woman. I’m going up to change my clothes. If you want to join me after your bath, please feel free to do so.” His words were quiet.

 

She nodded and smiled but didn’t look at him as she closed the bathroom door.  The sting of what he had said was still ricocheting through her body. She turned on the water to as hot as she could tolerate and got into the shower, hoping to wash away these feelings.  When it didn’t work, she cried. That helped. When she felt like she could face him again, she turned the tap off and toweled off. She didn’t have anything to wear so she just wore the towel up to his room.

 

Once upstairs she went to his drawer and borrowed a t-shirt, pulling it on and finally looking over to the bed.  When she saw his face, she realized she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t continue this weird control thing she was doing to her own heart.  She pulled the trigger. “Ulquiorra, do you _want_ a future with me?”

 

Shrugging would probably be a bad idea, he thought. He didn’t know if he could answer her. There was no one barking orders at him to determine his path in this life. As an Espada, he always had Aizen directing him. He sighed. Ulquiorra dwelled too much on his former life; too much on his glory days as a Hollow. “I need to ask you what your intentions are first,” he mumbled, hoping she could understand why he needed this answer.

 

Ulquiorra remembered his early days as a human. He had read all the papers that Urahara had given him over and over. There was nothing in the information about contact with other humans. He saw other humans every day, interacting with each other. It was a verbal greeting or a quick touch. He had no clue what to call all of it.

 

Returning to Karakura to search for the woman had not been successful. He couldn’t detect anything out of the ordinary. He was just an average human. It figured he had been so powerful in his previous life that he was mundane now. He was still nothing.

  
  
There had been a young blonde woman in the drug den where he rented a room. She was trying to make it big as a dancer. Ulquiorra had thought it was strange that the woman would be living in such squalor but they hit it off and began to hang out. He entered a relationship of sorts with the woman. They had gone to a party in the building. Drinks flowed. The music was loud. Drugs had been used rampantly. When he woke up the next morning, he wasn’t lying beside the blonde. Two redheaded women were draped over him.

 

The woman he had been dating was standing at the foot of the futon, crying.

 

It had been Ulquiorra’s fault. He did the drugs. He drank the alcohol. His stupid human body was to blame for what happened. He debated heavily with himself about even revealing this information to Orihime. He didn’t want her to look down on him for it. He already felt like she judged him for how he came into this world. That was the incident that pushed him to get out of Kabukicho… If he wasn’t around people who dragged him down he wouldn’t do degrading things with his life and to others. It was kind of like how he tried to stay away from the “bad” Espada. Nnoitra, Grimmjow, Yammy, Aaroniero and Szayel Aporro… They all had a bloodlust that Ulquiorra never experienced until Orihime came to Los Noches.

 

Ulquiorra looked at her and asked again, “What are your intentions?”

 

She frowned.  “I just told you.”  What was there not to understand?  She loved him and wanted to be together.  It was simple.

 

“Okay, but what does this being forever in love thing include?” He knew the question was insensitive but he had his reasons. “I need to know.”

 

“I don’t know, Ulquiorra. I mean, I’m not psychic.  It could mean living the high life until we’re like 40 and dying in a freak airplane accident.  It could mean growing old and gray together. It could mean what we want it to mean.”

 

That was too vague for him. He didn’t have that lightning-fast ability to assess situations anymore. “I do not...” He paused for a moment to observe her. Ulquiorra could already see she was assuming things and that he was probably going to break her heart. “When I first came to as a human I tried to refrain from maintaining contact with anyone. I met someone. I was given a loose set of rules about what I was doing and I ended up hurting her. I do not want to hurt you, Woman.”

 

She rolled her eyes.  “Thanks. I thought I was your ‘queen’ or whatever, and you’re comparing me to some chick you had back in the day and broke up with.  Doesn’t exactly instill confidence. Did you love her? Do you want to be with her? Do you regret it? Why are you bringing this up?”  All the negative emotions she had been trying to control, not just with Ulquiorra, were bubbling to the surface now.

 

“I see, you don’t understand. I knew you would react badly if I tried explaining things,” Ulquiorra turned from Orihime and walked over to the ladder. “You are _my_ queen. I have never compared you to anyone else; there’s no one who could come close to you, Woman. I did something stupid when "dating" this other woman. I used drugs and I drank. It led me to cheat on her. I was given a vague description of what was going on between us. And to answer your other questions, no, I only want to be with you.”

 

”So you are saying you need me to specify the exact nature of the kind of relationship I want to have with you because without it you will be unable to determine right from wrong?  I am trying really hard to understand your position. I really am. But it sounds to me like you are looking for loopholes. Like, if I don’t specifically say, “Hey, Ulquiorra, don’t stick your dick in other bitches,” you will just assume it’s ok?   It doesn’t make any sense to me.” She was trying really hard, _really_ hard, not to fall to pieces and leave.  Her heart was telling her to run.

 

Ulquiorra said nothing as he went down the ladder. Instead of going to his computer chair, he went and sat in the armchair he’d bought. He’d only gotten it for Orihime, so that she would have some place to sit when he was working or she wanted to spend time with him. He’d put it by the windows.

 

As he looked out them, he saw the same thing. People still out and about, living their lives. They had always been human. He was a baby compared to Orihime. He didn’t really understand how things worked. That’s what this all came down to. He got up from the chair and climbed his way up the ladder again. He saw Orihime sitting on the bed. “I apologize if I’m not educated on how the world works.”

 

She sighed.  She closed her eyes.  His tone was sad, and gave her pause.  She flopped back on the bed and with her eyes closed, she told him the truth.  “I want to live in the same place as you. I want to be monogamous with you. I want to build a life with you based on mutual trust and affection.  I don’t want anyone to come between us. I don’t want our relationship to end. If you have any other more specific questions, please feel free to ask.”  She blew out a breath and kept her eyes closed. This was clearly going to be more work than she anticipated. It didn’t make a difference to her, though.  She’d never been afraid of work.

 

“We’re doing all of that already, aren’t we?” Ulquiorra’s expression was confused. “Why did you get upset when I said I didn’t want to procreate? Don’t tell me you weren’t upset… Your eyes speak louder than your resting bitch face.”

 

She scoffed.  “Is that what this is all about?” She took a deep breath and sighed.  “Yes, I was upset. I am upset. I always wanted children. That’s the truth.  It’s not something I want at this point in my life though, and who knows? Maybe one day you might change your mind; maybe someday when you settle down you would want one.  But to have yourself permanently sterilized is a big deal.”

 

“Yes, that is what this is about. You’re a fucking fashion model. You get pregnant and that’s career suicide. But, I don’t like using those things with you,” Ulquiorra said. The condoms dulled everything and he wasn’t as into it when they had sex with them. “You don’t like when I pull out. You whine about it. So if I’m not going to be sterilized, then what do you propose we should do?”

 

Orihime sighed.  “I’ve already taken care of it,” glancing at him with a guarded expression.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

 

“I started taking hormonal birth control a couple weeks ago.  It won’t be 100% effective for a few more weeks, so I didn’t mention it.  I didn’t want to tempt fate.”

 

Ulquiorra nodded. He had read about things like that. He hadn’t thought that was an option. “I’m merely looking out for you, Orihime. I love you; you should know that. I do want a future with you but once again, I’ve not been a human as long as you have. I can’t look everything up on the internet.”

 

“I know.  I’m sorry.  It’s hard to always remember.  Apart from your eyes, you appear perfectly human.  Your spiritual pressure, or lack thereof… it fools me,” she sighed.  “Come here, please,” she said, her hand reaching up toward him.

 

Without protest he did as she asked, sinking down onto the bed and sitting next to where she lay. “The whole spiritual pressure thing throws me off too.”

 

“We could try…  No, I don’t know who I’m kidding.  I was going to say I could try to reject it back into existence,” she laughed.  “That doesn’t even make any sense.”

 

“Don’t you even do any of your witchy stuff on me.” Ulquiorra glared at her before his expression softened. “I wouldn’t use you like Kurosaki.”


	13. Misunderstanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JKR: We are sorry.  
> EIV: NO WE'RE NOT.

Ulquiorra sat at his computer answering emails and such. He hated the whole correspondence thing when it came to being an artist. People were always asking questions or for him to appear at places. His agent even asked him if he wanted to branch out and make his face famous.    
  


He didn’t want to be famous. 

 

The green-eyed man just wanted to be left alone. 

 

That wasn’t the truth. Ulquiorra wanted to be left alone with Orihime, with no one else bothering them and no obligations to take her away from him. Ever since their heated discussion, things had been a bit rocky. It was nothing but a bit of a bump in the road, but he was afraid that the redhead would realize what a loser he actually was and leave him.

 

He didn’t know why she wanted a future with him. He really had nothing to offer her.

 

Orihime had noticed a change in him.  He’d become more withdrawn, and his libido was diminished.  He didn’t flirt with her as he had before. It felt like he was pushing her away.  She had tried bringing it up a few times, but he denied it each time.

 

She was getting busier with work and school.  She was actually spending less time with Markus these days and more time at the college studios working on her own designs.  As she did, something that Ulquiorra said kept bothering her. When he talked about the downside of having a baby, he always pointed out that she was a model.  While it was true, for now, she knew there was no future in it for her. Sure it was fun, and she’d do it while opportunities were offered to her, but her passion was design, not modeling.  Ulquiorra seemed to totally ignore that detail even though she pointed it out multiple times. She wondered if part of his attraction to her had to do with her being admired. She worried that as her beauty would inevitably fade, so too would his attraction.

 

That thought reminded her of another one; one that had plaguing her for over a week since their stairwell rendezvous, and one that she allowed to keep her from  _ really  _ trying to clear the air with him.  She would wait until this issue was resolved or at least become a real issue instead of just a potential problem.  She didn’t want him to panic and run for no reason. She was sure if the worst was true, he would. 

 

More and more nightmares plagued him, They weren’t the usual Hueco Mundo ones, where he was standing on the dome dying by Kurosaki’s hand. It had been Orihime who cut him down in these dreams. Coupled with the fact that she seemed like she only came to the apartment to sleep, Ulquiorra knew… He knew he had screwed up big time. She tried to talk to him. He couldn’t stand it though. The gentle pleading way she voiced her concern or the soft hand she would lay on his arm. She pitied him. He shook his head. It didn’t matter. Once she got tired of his moods and his attitude, Orihime would be gone. Ulquiorra was sure of it. He had heard the stories of the other people in the building. Partners, spouses, girlfriends, boyfriends all leaving the creative people because they were too screwed up. 

 

There were flashes of light and distorting images.

 

Orihime was in her studio on a Thursday when it happened.  She stood up too fast and got lightheaded, falling and hitting her head on the corner of her work table.  Another student found her confused and bleeding from her head. That student freaked out and called emergency services.  Orihime was taken to a hospital and needed one stitch and was otherwise was fine, but the staff insisted she stay overnight for observation.  

 

This was the last thing she needed.  She briefly contemplated not telling Ulquiorra.  She wondered if he would even care at this point.  She was being dramatic. Of course he cared, she thought as she started a message to him.

 

  * _had a spill at school.  In hospital. It’s no big deal, but they won’t let me go til morning._



 

She had written on the board that she’d be home by a certain hour. The hour came and went, Ulquiorra started to worry. He wanted to try and talk to her. Then his phone said he had a text. A frantic feeling welled in his chest. He knew what a hospital was… his neighbors talk about them all the time. The television dramas he had occasionally witnessed showed them.

 

_ \- WHAT HAPPENED WOMAN? Do I need to come and rescue you? _

 

Orihime smiled at his message.  

 

  * _I’m alright.  I fell and hit my head.  They are keeping me for observation, but I think it’s unnecessary.  Anyway, I don’t need rescuing but appreciate the offer. I would not mind some company if you aren’t too busy..._



 

More panic bubbled into his brain. She fell. She hurt herself. A deep frown etched onto his face.

 

_ \- I’m answering emails. I can do that on my phone. Tell me where. _

 

She texted him the address and then contemplated telling Uryu, but decided it would just cause more problems.

 

It took him twenty minutes to reach the hospital by cab. Traffic was insane, and he kept grumbling in the back of the vehicle. He paid the driver and vaulted out of the cab, striding into the hospital. He asked for the room where Orihime was located. He was told. Ulquiorra fidgeted as navigated the hospital corridors. He came upon room 403 and went inside.

 

She had been staring out the window when he arrived, the bandage at her hairline clearly visible to Ulquiorra from the doorway.

 

“Woman,” he said, Ulquiorra’s face falling into one of concern. “What happened? Why did you--are you okay?” It was times like this he wished he still had use of his Sonido because walking was too slow for him. He was over at her bedside in mere seconds.

 

She turned her head slowly, and on seeing the concern etched on his face, her fears about his feelings for her disappeared, and she gave him a slow, unguarded smile, reaching out to him with both hands.

 

Ulquiorra had to refrain from falling into her embrace. She was injured. He took both of her hands, intertwining their fingers. “Why did you fall?” he asked before kissing her, letting his mouth barely graze hers.

 

She smelled him as he kissed her and blushed.  She had missed his unreserved affection. “I don’t know what happened. I had been sitting for a long time and then got up suddenly and got dizzy and then I fell.”

 

His hand came up and brushed away her hair so that he could see the bandage on Orihime’s head. “Have the doctors told you anything? Did you take in nutrients? Water? Could that be the cause of this? I know once you get absorbed into your work, you don’t want to stop.” 

 

She nodded.  He was right she did have a tendency to do that. “The doctors are running some labs to make sure all my levels are all right, but I haven’t heard anything yet. I don’t expect to find anything unusual.”

 

That was a relief to hear. “Well let’s hope that’s the case. I was waiting for you to return home--I mean to my apartment. You said that you would be back. I was beginning to worry you had grown weary of me.” Ulquiorra looked down at their hands and then sighed. “Woman, I am worried about us.”

 

Her guts clenched. His words made her feel a lance of pain from her head down to her seat. He was right though, to worry. They had not been communicating well. “Why would you call it that? I mean why wouldn’t you call it home for me?”  She bit her lip. “Why don’t you have any faith in me?” Her eyes began to tear up.

 

“I don’t know if you want it to be home… You hate my apartment. You hate the stairs. You hate that I don’t take off my shoes,” Ulquiorra stammered. “I do have faith in you, but you seem to have little faith in me. I’ve told you things about my human past, and you just seem defeated. Remember the first time I told you I had the potential to fuck up? I had told you I was in love with you then.”

 

She sighed.  “My home is wherever you are.  I adore you. I will not grow weary of you.  You refuse to believe that no matter how or how many times I say it.“

 

He had never heard of this word. Adore? What could she possibly mean by that? “Maybe I’m listening to others too much. The other tenants in the building, I’ve heard of their relationship struggles. I don’t want that to be us. I’ve gone through hell and back for you, Woman.”

 

“Then don’t let your fears negate your efforts. I’m yours for the taking, Ulquiorra.  Just don’t let me go,” her eyes looked to their joined hands. “I do have faith in you, you know.  I just don’t enjoy hearing about your past dalliances… It makes me feel sick,” she admitted in a small voice, thoroughly embarrassed.  She knew it was irrational to be jealous of the past, but she was anyway.

 

His forehead furrowed. “I thought--I mean--” Ulquiorra clearly did not understand what the hell was going on with this conversation. Orihime had stumped him once again. “My past makes me feel sick too, Orihime, but it’s a part of me. Just like my past as an Espada is part of me.”

 

She tilted her head and looked him in the eye.  He was reading her words all wrong. It was her fault.  “Ulquiorra, I don’t want you to feel ashamed of your past.  It is what it is. It’s made you who you are. I don’t want to change it.  I said what I said for selfish reasons. I said it because I’m jealous. I said it because the thought of another woman touching you fills me with rage.  It’s irrational,” she dropped her eyes down to their hands again, her face bright red with mortification.

 

Oh. Understanding came over him. Somehow she felt exactly like he did. It was a consuming desire. “Woman, Orihime… It’s not irrational because the thought of someone else touching you--It makes me want to kill someone. I recognized this wasn’t a healthy impulse. I felt it the day Markus threatened to pose you with someone else.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you’re not murdering anyone,” she said with a small laugh.  “Is it wrong that it makes me happy to hear you say that though?”

 

He lifted one straight eyebrow at her words. “It’s not wrong. We need to do something about us. How can we make whatever is between us work smoothly?”

 

She raised her eyebrows to a more relaxed position and exhaled slowly.  “I don’t know. You actually have more romantic relationship experience than I do. But I think we both need to work on trusting each other and communicating better.  If you don’t understand something I say, just ask. I’m not going to be angry or offended about a question. I’ll work on not making assumptions too. I just…” she sighed again, realizing what she was asking of him was not something she was offering in return, at least not at the moment.  She pressed her eyes shut and said it anyway, “I just want you always to be honest with me.”

 

Ulquiorra frowned slightly. He didn’t see how having sex with other women before her counted as romantic relationship experience. A couple of months of dating someone and then falling into a bed with two nameless women didn’t count either. He had taken her virginity, and she had said there was no other man before him… Except for the Quincy. That asshole didn’t count because he was gay though. “I will always be honest with you Orihime. I have never lied to you once.”

 

She nodded.  She believed him.  Just then a doctor arrived in her room with a clipboard. “Miss. Inoue?”

 

“Yes?” she asked, not sure why the doctor appeared so serious.

 

“And you, sir, are, um,  Mr. Inoue, I presume?”

 

Orihime’s eyes widened in fear as her eyes slowly tracked to Ulquiorra’s face. She trusted him.  She believed in him. She also trusted and believed that talking about something like marriage would send him running for the hills.

 

“Mr. Inoue?” he mumbled and looked at the doctor with wide eyes. Was this man implying that he was legally connected to Orihime? “I--uh--” He didn’t know what to say again. He found that happening a lot these days as his life became more entangled with Orihime’s. Ulquiorra glanced at Orihime before he gave a slight nod. He only did it because he was unsure of what to do. 

 

“Very good,” the doctor said, undeterred by the couple’s reluctance to answer the question and looked at his clipboard.  “Well, most of your tests came back normal. Now I know you had told a nurse that there was no possibility, but we did have enough for a sample, and it’s our policy as a hospital to test a female of child-bearing age for pregnancy.  Unfortunately, our test result was inconclusive. I’ll need to have a technician come in a collect another sample in a few minutes. Other than that, how is your head feeling, Mrs. Inoue?”

 

Orihime’s mouth fell open.  Her voice caught in her throat.  What could she say? She had hoped just to ride this out and sweep it under the rug.  The doctor was calling her out.

 

When she started taking birth control, she was told it wouldn’t be completely effective until after the first several weeks.  In the meantime, she was told to continue her regular form of birth control. After the stairwell incident, she went to the drugstore the next day, only to be told she could not take emergency contraceptives because it would interact with her regular birth control medication.  She was assured by the pharmacist that the likelihood of her actually becoming pregnant under the circumstances was very small, but that she would just have to wait a few weeks and take a pregnancy test or wait for her period to arrive, whichever came first. Orihime had been fretting about it ever since.

 

She had not breathed a word of it to Ulquiorra.

 

She turned to look at him now and opened and closed her mouth like a fish, finally sputtering out, “It must just be a bad test, right?” she asked the doctor while observing Ulquiorra.

 

He carefully schooled his face into a blank stare, an impassive expression. Inside his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts in turmoil. She wanted honesty from him, but she couldn’t return the favor. Had she purchased the damn medication or had she left the next morning to get a coffee and donuts? That’s what she came back to the apartment with, a smile plastered on her face. “She’s pregnant? Or there’s a chance she could be?” Ulquiorra asked, his tone was flat. He did not look at Orihime.

 

“As I said, the test was inconclusive.  It may result from a contaminated specimen, or like Mrs. Inoue suggested a faulty test.  There is no reason to suspect Mrs. Inoue is pregnant based on this test result alone,” the doctor said as he flipped through her chart.  “Although, Mrs. Inoue, if a subsequent test does come back positive for pregnancy, it might explain your sudden vertigo. If that is the case, I can refer you to one of several excellent obstetricians we have on staff,” he supplied helpfully.

 

Hearing this made his chin tilt fractionally higher and his jaw clench. Ulquiorra had been an idiot; he let his dick do the thinking for them and look where he ended up. Pulling his hands away from Orihime, he shoved them into the pockets of his jeans. “This test needs to be done now,” he stated.

 

Orihime was fucked.  She knew it. Even if the test result came back negative, she could see by the look on his face that she had somehow destroyed what little trust he had in her.  Her body felt heavy. “Please doctor; my husband is a busy man. We’d like the results as soon as possible, please,” she asked in a small, defeated voice. She closed her eyes after she said it. She didn’t want to see the look on Ulquiorra’s face anymore.  

 

“Of course.  I’ll be back with your results shortly after the technician collects the sample.  Until then, Inoues,” the doctor said, spinning around and leaving the room.

 

As soon as that door closed, Ulquiorra turned to Orihime. “You fucking lied to me,” he snapped at her. “You want me to be honest, but you didn’t even buy that shit, did you? What the fuck? Are you trying to trap me into your idea of a fucking fairytale forever? Did you want to become some child support whore?”

 

Her eyes snapped open.  She had expected him to be upset, yes.  Angry. Disappointed in her, obviously. She had not expected  _ this. _

 

“I was trying to protect you.  It was probably nothing. I was assured it was probably nothing.  The pharmacist said I couldn’t have it because of the other birth control.  I didn’t know. The pharmacist said there was nothing I could do but wait and see.  I didn’t want you panicking,” she explained as quickly as she could, her voice wavering.

 

“Protect me? How? By lying? By withholding the fucking truth?!” Ulquiorra was livid. “I’m beyond panicking, _Inoue_.”

 

“I knew you would!  That’s why I didn’t say anything!  In two more weeks I would have known for sure and then it wouldn’t be an issue anymore!”  she shouted, desperate to get through to him.

 

Ulquiorra shook his head. This had been a disaster waiting to happen. It always was where this particular human was concerned. “TWO MORE FUCKING WEEKS WOULD HAVE BEEN TOO LATE. What if you are? You’ll be on your own. I already put my foot down about this.”

 

So that’s how he really felt.  She was just a whore, trying to trap him.  Just a whore. Just like her mother. It was destiny, wasn’t it?  She took a small, painful breath and looked at him, but not in the eyes. When she spoke, her voice was low, but steady and clear.  “Get out.”

 

He wanted to tell her no that he wasn’t leaving until the test results came back but Ulquiorra knew if he stuck around there’d be more yelling, and he would get angrier. “Gladly. Lose my number.” The dark-haired man turned and walked out of the hospital room. He ignored the looks and glances he had gotten from the people in the hall. They probably had heard the fight. Ulquiorra didn’t care. He had plenty of time to think about things as he walked back to his apartment. 

  
  
He had offered his sanctuary to her, to allow her to share his haven away from the world. Ulquiorra’s mouth twisted into a frown and he felt his chin quiver. His eyes burned. What was this? By the time he reached his building, he kept having to blink wetness from his eyes. The other occupants of the building did not say anything to him as he ran up those stairs. When he unlocked his door and stepped inside, Ulquiorra slammed the door shut and looked around.

 

The whiteboard was the first thing he saw. Rage was building inside of him. Why? What the hell was wrong with his eyes that they kept leaking? He grabbed the thing with her note still written on it and broke it in half throwing the pieces behind him. He broke what he deemed as her coffee mug, smashing it against the tiled floor. It had made her smile, therefore, needed to be destroyed. 

 

He went through the apartment ripping up sketches of her, and he contemplated destroying paintings. There was no way he would do that though. He could sell every last one of them. Ulquiorra went up the ladder to where his bed sat, flopping down on it. The first thing he looked at was a photograph of them that she took. He launched it over the sidewall of the loft. He heard the frame as it shattered.

 

***

 

Against doctor’s orders, Orihime checked herself out of the hospital as soon as she got the pregnancy results back.  As she had expected, they were negative. She didn’t want to spend another moment in that room if she didn’t have to.  

 

She walked back to her and Uryu’s apartment, kicked off her shoes, and went to the bathroom, pulling off the sterile dressing from her forehead.  She hoped she had enough spiritual pressure to do what she needed to do. “I reject,” she said, watching her small dome come out and cover the wound on her head and the part of her hairline that needed to be shaved off in order to place the stitch in her skin.  It took longer than she had anticipated, but eventually, the hair and skin were back to their original states.

 

Her phone rang, and her heart jumped to her throat.  Was it him? Was he going to try to make amends? She dove for her phone and answered without looking at the caller id.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, Boo, everything ok?  I felt your spiritual pressure spike.  I was worried.”

 

That’s all it took for her to break down into sobs.  She couldn’t speak. She was overcome with pain, and it came pouring out of her in wailing cries.

 

“You’re at home, right?   I thought I felt you there.  I’m coming back. Stay there.”  The Quincy hung up.

 

Uryu arrived twenty minutes later and found Orihime crumpled in a pile on the floor of the living room.  On the low coffee table was a stack of the test shots that had been taken at Markus’ studio.

 

Orihime looked to Uryu with red-rimmed eyes and could only say, “It’s over.”


	14. Reminders

Ulquiorra glared when he saw his face plastered on billboards and in magazines. That fucking blond idiot. He had stomped into Markus’ place and screamed at the fashion designer. Markus told him that the shots had been brilliant and hot. Requests were pouring in from places, requesting his designs.

 

That was fucking wonderful but it did nothing for Ulquiorra to see his face constantly paired with Inoue’s. Markus had blown him off with a wave of a hand, asking if the green-eyed man would like to pose for him again, this time with an “actual” model. He had rolled his eyes so hard at that term.

 

So he did the photoshoot and the model in question, who was named Yui, was educated and not a mindless waif as she presented herself. They talked and laughed the entire time. By the end of the day, Ulquiorra had made a friend. Not that he wanted someone around. He was brooding over his failed romance with Orihime. He left one day and then came back to find his extra key that he had given her in his mail, sealed in an envelope. After that, he’d boxed up all the shit she had left behind and gave it to Uryu when he saw him at Markus’ studio.

 

The Quincy glared at him and if looks could kill, he’d be dead.

 

Ulquiorra did not care. He tried to avoid her as much as he could. At first, it was easy but then his agent started getting more and more requests for him to model.

 

“I’m an art agent. I know dick all about modeling. You’re--”

 

“You’re going to learn quickly about the modeling world then,” Ulquiorra snapped at the man.

 

He had jobs lined up and he always made sure that his agent never took the jobs that had him paired up with Orihime. Then he found out that Orihime didn’t even model anymore. She was solely focused on designing clothes or whatever she did. At least that was the rumor.

 

If she wasn’t modeling anymore there could be a chance… Ulquiorra shook his head.

 

It wasn’t his problem, but the ads that Markus had approved gave him a lot of invites to parties and appearances at clubs. He always took Yui to these functions because she was funny. She understood that he just wanted a friend and nothing else.

 

The gossip rags got wind of his supposed romance with Yui. The model said she didn’t mind. Ulquiorra fucking minded. He didn’t want to give the other model any ideas. This was just a friendship, nothing more. He had deflected her romantic advances, stating that he had just exited an intense relationship.

 

“Inoue?” Yui had asked while they were having coffee one morning at a cafe near his building. They had met there after Ulquiorra had been up all night painting. Yui had been at Markus’ studio all night.

 

Ulquiorra mulled this question over then nodded.

 

“You’re not over her, are you?”

 

This time he shook his head. She accepted this with a smile. He constantly thought about the redhead. He got several new tattoos even though he hadn’t sold any paintings.

 

When he wasn’t working with other designers or posing, Ulquiorra was painting. He still had an obligation to the art galleries that had booked his shows. It hadn’t been easy. He had put a box cutter through the unfinished painting of Orihime and thrown it away. His mood had become dark and desolate, so that’s what he painted. Dark, brutal imagery plagued his art.

 

He hated it.

 

Paintings of a tall man with a long tongue and a scythe. A blue panther patrolling the white sands, half of the animals face just a skull. A bat bleeding, impaled by a crystal branch. The mask of the Vizard who had defeated him. All the images of what happened in Hueco Mundo came to life with bold, angry brushstrokes and bursts of color.

 

Ulquiorra decided at this show, he’d sell his beloved paintings. They had been taken down off the wall and stowed away. He couldn’t bear the sight of either one. It hurt too much. Seeing his face next to Orihime hurt. Seeing the images of them kissing was excruciating.

 

He deserved it though. He had said things that he could never take back. She had told him to get out and he did so with spite.

 

He missed her though.

 

***

 

She had been beside herself for the first few weeks. She lost weight and didn’t sleep well. After the first week Uryu noticed and started sleeping at home again on a temporary basis. She wouldn’t let him go to bed with her, but when she had nightmares that woke him up, he’d come to her room and slip into bed with her anyway, holding her until she stopped trembling.

 

Uryu had told her that now that she and Murcielago had broken up, Markus wasn’t interested in her anymore, preferring to go with Ulquiorra and other more typical models. Orihime didn’t care about losing the gig. She was heartbroken about Ulquiorra stealing it, though.

 

She cried and agonized until she grew numb, and then she threw herself into her work.

 

She shelved the patterns and partially completed garments she had been working on at school and started a new collection from scratch. She stayed in the school’s studios until the wee hours of the mornings almost everyday. She gave up modelling completely. She made cash doing a little tailoring now and then and relying on Uryu’s generosity. She accepted it. It was short-term and she would pay him back. She had to focus on her collection.

 

She drew and drew and and draped and patterned and sewed. For the very first time, she started with a crystal clear idea of what she wanted to design, each piece, from start to finish, and how she wanted each styled; it was all just a matter of execution. She wasn’t afraid of hard work.

 

Uryu began spending less and less time at home as Orihime began to toil away all night most evenings, crashing in the student lounges and only going home to shower and change.

 

Orihime stopped caring so much about the fun side of this industry; the photography and partying, the scene and the gossip, and focused on the nitty-gritty business of working hard and getting shit done. This was the new her; focused and unsmiling. She wasn’t going out of her way to please anyone. She had a job to do. It reflected in the way she presented herself. At first it was just her clothes; she was not privy to Markus’ designs anymore, so she made her own with the leftover fabric she was using to craft her new designs. Most of it was black and white, not unlike Markus’ in that regard, so most people didn’t even notice.

 

The way she did her makeup was getting edgier; she lined her eyes more heavily, mainly to mask the fact that she never slept. She wore her hair up in a high ponytail most days. Again, it was a matter of practicality.

 

However, there was one thing that she did that was not a practicality. When Orihime stopped in the cafe near her school for her third cup of coffee one morning, she saw the news in the culture pages about Ulquiorra’s new girlfriend. Of course she was drop-dead gorgeous. She looked nothing like Orihime. The paper explained that they had met modeling for Markus’ spring campaign together, and had been inseparable ever since. When Orihime read this, the pain of their breakup shot through her as strong as the day it had happened. It made her want to bleed. It made her want to take a scalding hot shower. It made her want to begin to dye her hair. Her most signature physical feature, the one Tatsuki fought to protect, the one her brother had praised, the one Ulquiorra had first painted. All it ever did was remind her of pain.

 

It was just a few streaks at first, but everytime she would see a new picture of Ulquiorra and Yui together, she felt compelled to mark the occasion with another black streak. It didn’t take long for her entire head to be peppered with peekaboo black streaks.

 

She began to attract Aki’s attention. The woman misguidedly felt that Orihime was trying to emulate her and was flattered. Aki took the redhead under her wing to an extent, inviting her with her to events and lending her assistants when Orihime complained about her workload.

 

Uryu was still worried. He called some of Orihime’s old friends from Karakura to try to arrange a get-together in Shibuya. Only Ichigo came. He had learned his lesson the last time he tried to visit and didn’t try to hit on Orihime, but that didn’t stop him from giving her the third degree about her choice in men. He had been deeply disturbed to see the pictures of her and her artist ex-boyfriend. “You know he looks exactly like that Espada,” he lectured, “It’s not healthy for you to be so fixated on the past. You have to move on. No wonder that relationship didn’t go anywhere. Maybe you should talk to a professional.”

 

Orihime’s eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets. Was Ichigo serious? Did he know how hypocritical he was being? She glanced at Uryu with one eyebrow raised as Ichigo went on and on. Uryu only shrugged. Ichigo still had his head firmly lodged up his own ass.

 

They had decided to all go to a club together. Uryu wanted them all to meet Markus. Orihime didn’t have any specific bad feelings toward the other designer, so she didn’t object. She just planned on keeping a low profile on the chance that Ulquiorra would show up.

 

It had been almost a month since she had been out socially. She hadn’t had an opportunity to dress for herself for months before that when she was the face for Markus. She was at a loss as she stared into her closet.

 

“Quin!” she called from her room. Uryu perked up from his disinterested, glazed-over expression he wore listening to Kurosaki and asked to be excused for a moment, walking into Orihime’s room to find her butt naked and staring in to her closet. He slammed the door behind him and locked it.

 

“Orihime!” he hissed. “Kurosaki could have been right behind me!”

 

She looked over her shoulder at him with a dull expression. “Quin, I don’t give a flying fuck if he sees me naked spread over a lawn chair. I just don’t care. I need help dressing.” Her head slowly turned back to her closet.

 

Uryu was anxious to get going. He didn’t want to hang around the apartment listening to Kurosaki drone on about the goings-on in soul society or his monthly hollow average. He looked into Orihime’s closet and pulled out a tiny black dress. It was a plain shift with no embellishments and lots of room for visible sideboob. “Here wear this with some strappy stilettos and you can cosplay as Posh Spice,” he said, shoving the dress into her hands. “No undies,” he warned, walking out of her room and closing the door behind him.

 

Ten minutes later they were on their way to Aquamarine again.

 

***

 

Ulquiorra was standing in Markus' studio with his arms crossed over his chest. "I have an art show to get ready for. I do not have time to entertain your brainless ideas."

 

Markus rolled his eyes. "I need you to represent my fashion label tonight, just for an hour or two. You look so good in the designs I did just for you. I know Yui is free, she already said that she would be willing to escort you. Uryu mentioned he's inviting Inoue out.”

 

His impassive facade cracked a little, showing interest at the last statement. He then scoffed. “Your fashions are borrowed ideas from other designers. It’s not hard to pair a t-shirt with a pair of jeans and then layer a jacket over it.”

 

“You wound me,” the designer pouted.

 

“No, I don’t. Why would I care if Yui is willing to “escort” me? Why would I care if Ori--Inoue will be there?”

 

“Word travels fast in this business, Murcielago. Apparently, Inoue is unrecognizable. You’re under contract to represent my brand. I demand your presence tonight.”

 

The dark-haired man shook his head. “Fine, you hack. Where is this outfit?”

 

Fifteen minutes later, Ulquiorra was dressed in a ridiculous outfit. He had on black boots, a pair of white trousers that had black zippers up the sides. The cinder gray shirt was longer than what it needed to be, cut diagonally where the hem went from his hip on one side then fell to his knees on the other where it was slitted all the way up his torso, held in place by crisscrossed straps. It was also sleeveless and clung to him. The asshole made it out of silk.

 

He scowled as he looked at the blond. “No. Pick anything else.”

 

Markus wouldn’t budge as he had an assistant style his hair. Another woman, the makeup artist, quickly had his eyes lined with something. When everyone was gone, Markus smiled. It only took fifteen minutes until they were at some club.

 

***

 

Orihime watched with a bored expression as Uryu and Ichigo made their way out onto the dancefloor. She stood at the bar and accepted drinks that anonymous people bought for her, drinking her way into a state of not really giving a fuck who might show up or how obnoxious her friends might get. Aki had texted her to tell her that she was bringing Zerge and Pauletto later and asking her to stay until at least they had a chance to hang out together. Aki had enough pull to get her own booth, but she wasn’t going to arrive for about another hour.

 

Orihime took a sip of something sweet and grimaced. She turned to the barkeeper and said, “Can you get me a Skinny Bitch and put it on Markus’ tab? Thanks!” with a sweet smile.

 

The barkeeper didn’t ask any questions. Her drink arrived a moment later and she raised her glass to herself, and with a bitter smile said, “Cheers Markus, you backstabbing scum,” then took a long, cool sip. That was better. She scanned the room and didn’t see anyone else she knew, so she made her way to a dark corner and stayed close to the wall.

 

Ulquiorra didn’t wait for Markus and his entourage to follow behind him. He just went towards the door the club, they knew his face so he didn’t have to say anything as he walked in. He knew he was being rude and didn’t care. As usual, this place was a cesspool of desperate bodies waiting for their next quick fuck. He hated going out in public. He hated other people that asked prying questions.

 

The music was too loud, and the mixed smell of bodies and perfume was enough to make him head directly to the bar, ordering a drink. He kept telling himself that he wasn’t here for a chance to see Orihime… Inoue… Whatever. He wasn’t here for her. He was just maintaining his contract obligation.

 

Orihime had, due to necessity, left her phone with Ichigo. There was nowhere on her person to keep it. Her dress was basically just a square piece of cloth sewn together into a cylinder and held over her shoulders with thin strings. It lay open all the way to the top of her hips in the back and revealed most of her ribs on the sides. Pursuant to Uryu’s rules, “no undies”, she didn’t even have a bra to stow a phone in. Uryu knew her passcode and she didn’t want him thumbing through the device, so Ichigo was the only option.

 

She sipped on her vodka and began to sway to the music with her eyes closed. She didn’t hate coming to places like this, in fact she rather enjoyed it under the right circumstances. In the dark spot she currently claimed, away from groping hands and prying eyes, it was just her, the vodka, and the music. It was the closest she had felt to serenity since her break up

 

There was no downside at the moment, as far as she was concerned. She was completely free. No one could call her and demand her time. She didn’t have a screen to pretend to be occupied with. She finished her drink and set her glass down and took a step into the edges of the dancing lights. The music changed to something pretty and melodic with an almost atmospheric edge but a strong bassline. She began to dance freely. For the time being, no person disturbed her.

 

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes as Markus came inside and directed him to a booth. It was such bullshit what he had to put up with from the man. They weren’t fucking and he wasn’t a pushover like his former girlfriend going along with every little demand. It was probably why Markus didn’t like him all that much. Ulquiorra would not bow down to the designer. He set his drink on the table and allowed Yui to slip into the booth first. He made sure he was away from the blond. He didn’t want to hear his shit tonight about representing a brand or whatever other nonsense came out of his mouth.

 

Almost immediately the Quincy arrived, reaching over the table to kiss Markus on the cheek and smile at Yui and the rest of those present, excluding Ulquiorra. After greeting his boyfriend, he stood up and to the side to introduce another person. “Markus, this is a friend of mine from school, Kurosaki Ichigo. Kurosaki, this is my boyfriend, Markus.”

 

Kurosaki nodded to the blond man and smiled cordially, scanning the other people seated at the booth. When his eyes landed on Yui, his eyebrows flashed rather obviously, and his grin took on a rakish air. That all disappeared when he saw the person seated to her left. The grin melted into a familiar scowl. “Oh, it’s you,” the shinigami ground out through clenched teeth. He caught himself after a beat and relaxed his expression, lifting his brows and tilting his chin up at Yui in an obvious come-on.

 

“Nice to see you again, Kurosaki,” Ulquiorra said. He noted the orange-haired man’s reaction to his “date”, and he noticed Yui’s smile at him. They were just friends. He didn’t care what or who she did. He had no plans to sleep with her.

 

Kurosaki furrowed his brows at the man to his right, “Again? You just met me, dude. I’ve seen you before though. It’s not nice to meet you. Inoue is my friend, and I don’t take kindly to losers who break her heart, so don’t talk to me.”

 

That was amusing. Ulquiorra turned his gaze to the Quincy. “You didn’t tell him?” he asked with a lift of his eyebrow.

 

Uryu scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Not. Worth. It.” is all he said before turning his attention back to Markus. He quickly looked back at the artist and advised, “She’s here, FYI.” He trusted Ulquiorra not to talk to her. He hadn’t all this time, what would make him start now?

 

“Don’t worry. I get it.” Ulquiorra scanned the crowd but didn’t see anyone who matched his ex’s description. She must have been in the ladies room. After the assessment, he turned his attention back to the substitute shinigami. “We met before. Six years ago… In another place. I’m C. Murcielago.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. What does the C. stand for? I don’t know anyone who goes by his initials.” The lighting in this club was dim. Ulquiorra’s eyes looked normal with his pupils wide like they were. Ichigo was not making the connection.

 

“It stands for Cifer,” Yui said, smiling at Ichigo. “Pardon me but would you like to dance, Kurosaki?”

 

Ichigo smiled at her, “Yeah, c’mon,” he said before scowling at Ulquiorra again.

 

Ulquiorra shifted out of the way so that the model could get past him and then watched as they walked onto the dance floor. He sighed, looking around again. “Ishida, where is she? I’m only asking so that I can avoid her.”

 

“I don’t fucking know, Batman. Kurosaki has her phone, so I can’t even find out for you. Um, she’s wearing black. She looks fantastic. Figure the rest out on your own,” he whined, sick of being a go-between.

 

“You just fucking told me to leave her alone in fewer words than that,” he snapped. Ulquiorra quickly downed the rest of his drink before leaving the booth.

 

He walked towards the bar not caring who he ran into, Ulquiorra didn’t bother to apologize to anyone. He was going to order another drink but something, no, someone caught his eye. Swallowing, Ulquiorra turned his entire body towards the person who caught his attention. His mouth went dry. He was staring at a very different and dark version of Inoue Orihime. He debated on whether or not he should go over to her, but the Quincy did say to leave her be and not bother her. There were mixed signals in his words though.

 

Deciding to tempt fate, Ulquiorra walked in her direction, watching as her body moved. The so-called scrap of fabric she wore as a dress did nothing to hide those curves. It was clear with how much of her side was exposed that she was not wearing a bra. He was already an idiot, so he decided to be even stupider and walk up behind her, his body scant inches from hers.

 

Ulquiorra wanted to reach out and grab her hips so that he could pull her against him. He wanted to speak to her. He found that his body would not listen, so he did neither. His fingers merely twitched.

 

Someone had approached. She could feel the temperature around her shift. Whoever it was had not moved after what she assumed was his initial approach. It was fine with her. She wasn’t here to make friends. She continued to sway her hips in the same way as before, until she smelled something. She could swear it was eucalyptus. Cedar. Leather. Shit, there was no way. She knew there was a chance that he was here tonight but she knew he would avoid her if he even recognized her. It must just be a similar scent. Or maybe he had walked through that space earlier. Her hips stilled and she took another deep breath. It smelled exactly like him.

 

She opened her eyes and looked straight ahead. She steeled her expression as her eyes cautiously scanned the room before her. There was no way the guy behind her was him. He wouldn’t approach her. He hated her.

 

_He hated her._

 

The image of him shouting at her in that hospital room flashed before her eyes. She blinked hard and grit her teeth. Despite her best efforts, her chin bobbled, and a tear streaked out of her left eye before she knew what was happening. She quickly wiped it away and took off quickly toward the restroom. She couldn’t be seen crying in a club, especially this one.

 

Ulquiorra didn’t know what he expected. Okay, maybe he expected her to turn around and look at him. He didn’t expect her to freeze or sniffle or take off like a bat flying out of hell. With quick steps, dodging and slipping between the bodies on the dance floor, Ulquiorra knew he had to reach her. He needed to talk to her. People kept getting in his way, and he had to run to catch up with her practically.

 

Reaching out his pale hand, Ulquiorra caught her wrist just before she made it to the door of the bathroom. He made sure he had an iron grip on it so she couldn’t yank herself away.

 

She yelped when she felt the strong hand grab her wrist, but quickly decided it must be either Uryu or Ichigo. She turned around to see a much paler hand on her wrist. She looked up and followed the arm attached to the hand to see his face looking at her with an unreadable expression. She froze.

 

If he didn’t look at her pictures, he could tell himself he was over her. If he didn’t think about all the time they spent together, he could forget her. Seeing her dancing the way that she had been erased the past almost two months. The feeling like his heart was breaking was back. He felt overwhelming emotions flooding his senses. She looked like a deer caught in a pair of headlights, staring at him wide-eyed. He could barely breathe looking at her. Several times his mouth opened and closed before he managed to say, “Woman?” It was a heavy question.

 

She continued to stare at him for a long moment, completely stunned. She heard his question. She hiccuped at hearing the familiar name he used for her. This had to be a nightmare. Her brow crumpled. “No,” she whimpered so quietly that she barely heard it, looking down and to the side. She had finally become functional to a degree. How could this be happening now?

 

“Orihime, please,” Ulquiorra said, pulling her closer to him so that he didn’t have to speak in a loud voice. He could feel her resisting him. All he wanted to do was apologize. “I was in the wrong.”

 

She rose one eye to him, puzzled. Okay, so he realized he had been a fuck up of massive proportions. She doubted he really thought so, though. Maybe he felt overwhelmed with pity? None of that changed the fact that he didn’t wait two weeks to steal her job and find himself a new girlfriend. She sighed and used her free hand to wipe her eyes. “What do you want me to do, Ulquiorra?” she asked in a breaking voice.

 

She wasn’t going to forgive him. That was fine. It was perfectly within her right to do so. He’d been an asshole that day. He had been more than an asshole. He’d been the biggest dickbag ever. “Talk to me,” he replied. Ulquiorra knew that she would probably get pissed off at him but it was worth a shot. He had to ask. “Go somewhere with me and talk to me. I can’t stand this.”

 

Orihime rolled her eyes. He couldn’t stand this? How selfish could one person be? He left her high and dry, and everything had worked out swell for him. “Fine, you wanna talk? Let’s talk. Wherever you want.”

 

She didn’t sound very convinced. “If I talk are you going to listen or just let it go in one ear and out the other?” Ulquiorra stared at her. “We can go back to my place… Or yours… Or find some place that is open that’s not filled with drunk people or loud music.”

 

“Don’t you think your girlfriend would be pissed if her boyfriend left with his ex? We can talk outside.” She couldn’t believe him. What kind of shitty apology was this? And since when did he think he could set the terms for the conditions of her acceptance?

 

He knew that damn article was going to cause problems. Ulquiorra wasn’t going to have this discussion outside though, not with other people around, gawking at him. “Yui’s not my girlfriend. She’s a female friend. I’ve already told her that I wasn’t interested in her and that--She’s dancing with Kurosaki right now. Why does he have your phone?”

 

She looked at him with a dubious expression and grabbed at the sides of her dress, pulling out the sides as far as the material would stretch, exposing herself to him a great deal momentarily. “Does it look to you like I have anywhere to keep it?” she asked sarcastically.

 

Ulquiorra took a glance at her and then looked away. “No,” he managed to say with a dry mouth. Fuck; she was still beautiful. At least when he looked back at her, she no longer was giving him a look at her tits and body. “You told me to pick wherever I wanted to talk. I picked. This isn’t a talk we need an audience for, Woman. I don’t want an audience for it.”

 

She was not having it. There was absolutely no way in hell she was going back to his place. Uryu and Kurosaki would murder him if they found him at home, although she was weighing the pros and cons of that situation in the back of her mind. “Karaoke.”

 

There was a huge karaoke place the next block over. They could rent a sound-proof booth if that’s what he wanted.

 

His jaw clenched, and he thought about this for a moment. Ulquiorra should have never even bothered her. He should have left her alone like the Quincy had said to do. “Why not my place?”

 

“You don’t want a child support whore in your place, do you Ulquiorra?”

 

Yeah, she was definitely still harboring ill feelings towards him. He deserved it, every bit of her ire; he asked for it. “You’re the woman I can’t get over. The one who got away; the one who told me to get out because I’m an insensitive asshole. I can’t stand being this miserable. I cannot stand--I was wrong for saying that. ”

 

“For someone who’s supposedly not over me you’ve got a funny way of showing it. Do you want to talk or not? Do you want to do this here? I’m not going to your place. Period.”

 

“No. Nevermind,” he said then narrowed his eyes at her. Ulquiorra let go of her wrist, remembering the words she had murmured to him while they were fucking in the stairwell. “You don’t want to obey me, that’s fine. Sorry to bother you.”


	15. Enemies to Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JKR: PUMPKIN SPICE OIL CHANGES ARE BACK!!!!  
> EIV: Basic!

Days later, Ulquiorra was vaguely listening to Markus bitch at him on the phone. He didn’t care that he ruined the man’s chances at seeing his male line of fashion in the wild. After the blond started screaming at him, the artist hung up on him, thumbing through the contacts listed in the device.    
  
Where Orihime’s name once read  _ My Princess _ , it now said  _ Baby Mama _ . He’d been stupid and drunk when he changed it. He tapped the phone lightly against his mouth before Ulquiorra decided to text her. 

 

_ \- Thanks for showing me your tits. They’re still nice. The mental image doesn’t compare to the real deal though. _

 

Orihime was at school when the text came through from an unknown number.  She was livid.

 

  * _who the fuck is this?!  How did you get this number?_



 

A scowl crossed his face. Had she actually deleted his number from her phone? Fuck, he had screwed up. Instead of sending words, he sent a selfie of himself laying in his bed then followed it up with a message.

 

_ \- Surprise. How do you think I got it? I kept it. _

 

She was honestly surprised to see his face.  What was he trying to do? Just sexually harass her?  She considered not responding. Knowing him though, he would be persistent.  She added his number back to her contact list under a new name,  _ The Prince of Darkness. _

 

  * _why?_



 

“For fuck sakes,” he muttered. Ulquiorra shook his head. Why else would he keep her number? 

 

_ \- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was pissed. Forgive me, sweetness?  _

 

_ Sweetness _ ?  Was he for real?  Where had he picked up his game?  What kind of television programs did he watch?  What kind of people had he met in the past four years that taught him to be such a dickhead?  The Ulquiorra she knew, the Espada, would never try to sweet talk her with meaningless nicknames.  What was he playing at?

 

  * _What happened to the fourth Espada?  You know, the one who would never even consider using some meaningless endearment in an effort to avoid conflict?  The one who would only face me with brutal honesty? Who are you and what have you done with him?_



 

Shit. She was calling him out. Fuck. Ulquiorra scowled at the screen.

 

_ \- He fell in love with a human. I’m still me… the fuckboy. The manwhore. I’m still your Espada, Woman.  _

 

She shook her head.

 

  * _You don’t sound like him._



 

It was now or never. Ulquiorra could tell Orihime what was on his mind and his heart. Could he though?

 

_ \- I fucked up. I apologize for it. It was my fault what happened in the stairwell, and I caused this whole thing. _

 

Orihime read his message several times and decided not to reply right away.  It was a nice start; a nice gesture. She wasn’t sure she agreed with his assessment though.  It was more complicated than that. She needed to think about it. She set her phone aside and got back to work.

 

No answer. No reply. Ulquiorra sighed and thought back to that night at the club. He had ulterior motives that night, thinking he could smooth this all over and she would be back in his arms. He was happy that they didn’t talk because it wouldn’t have gotten them anywhere and he would have done something stupid. 

 

_ \- You free rn? Can I call? _

 

Her phone buzzed again about a half hour later, and she read his text requesting a phone call.  She was still working, but she had the studio space to herself. It would not hurt to hear his reasoning.  

 

  * _I’m working at school atm, but I can put you on speaker._



 

He mulled this over. He didn’t want anyone to hear what he had to say to her. Ulquiorra wished this wasn’t so hard for him to do.

 

- _Kinda personal subject matter. Can we have dinner? Maybe breakfast? Lol_

 

She frowned at his text.  It was a terrible idea.

 

  * _No.  I would like to talk, but not in person.  It’s too emotional._



 

Ulquiorra bit his lip. She was right. Things had been too emotional the other day when they saw each other; when they had exchanged those few words. He let his head fall back on the pillow.

 

- _You think talking on the phone is going to be less emotional? Unless you’ve learned how to be dead inside, I’m gonna hear your voice, Woman._

 

She knew he was right.

 

  * _Of course it will be emotional but hopefully a little buffered.  We could just keep corresponding by text…_



 

Nothing was keeping him from going to Bunka Fashion College. Well, there was the fact that he didn’t want to upset her and Ulquiorra didn’t want to seem like a stalker. He rubbed his forehead, trying to decide if he wanted to reply or not.

 

_ \- I miss you. I know that sounds callous, especially after what I said to you. _

 

She let the message sit unread for a while.  After about ten minutes she picked up her phone and read his text.  She really wanted to believe him, despite her misgivings. She chose her words very carefully.

 

  * _These past two months have been really awful._  



 

He snorted. Thank you, captain obvious.

 

_ \- yeah. I know. You want me to leave you alone then? _

 

She rolled her eyes.  Maybe texting wasn’t such a great idea; too much room for interpretation.

 

  * _Call me.  I’m alone_.



 

Ulquiorra pressed the phone icon and brought it to his ear. He had always been the one to call her, usually in frustration at her text messages. He didn’t know how this was going to go. It could go rather well or take a left turn at horribly wrong.

 

The phone rang right away, surprising her.

 

“Hello?”  Her voice was soft.

 

“Hey,” he replied. Hearing her voice made breathing difficult for a moment. “Sup, baby doll?”

 

_ God, that was lame _ .

 

She tried to stifle a snort, but it came out before she could stop it.  “Baby doll?” She asked, incredulous but amused.

 

Ulquiorra chuckled. “Yeah, I cringed too. I—“ He didn’t know what to say that he hadn’t said already.

 

There was a long pause.  “How have you been?” She kept her voice quiet just in case someone passed by.  It made it sound somewhat intimate. Not sexy, but intimate.

 

“The usual. Can’t sleep. Dreams and nightmares. Moody. Pissed off.” Ulquiorra closed his eyes, focusing on her voice. “You?”

 

“I have been working my butt off.  Apparently, heartache is good for inspiration.  Who knew?” she laughed a tiny huff.

 

He knew how that was. He had painted more than his quota for the art show.  “Yeah, same. One painting got destroyed but other than that… I got a couple of new tattoos,” Ulquiorra commented.

 

“Oh no, what happened to the painting?”

 

“I got angry and destroyed it.”

 

She could guess why.  She could guess which one, too.  “Sorry. What kind of tattoos then?”

 

Ulquiorra chuckled. “Don’t be. You know I don’t talk about them, Woman.”

 

“Right, how could I forget,” she replied awkwardly.  She felt that this was the moment to pivot away from pleasantries, but she wasn’t sure how to do it.  She tried remembering what had happened the other night at the club. He had grabbed her because he wanted to talk.  That was the proverbial elephant in the room, she guessed. “So, you wanted to talk to me about something…”

 

The mood shifted and once again Orihime was calling him out. Ulquiorra cleared his throat. “I, uh, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for fucking up. I miss you.”

 

“I miss you too.  A lot.” Her voice was cautious but sincere.

 

He had always been a bumbling idiot when speaking to others once he became a human again. Through emails and text messages he could be smooth, suave, and charming. “I also wanted to tell you… I still… I love you,” he said, almost having to choke out the last word. Ulquiorra hated this vulnerable and exposed feeling. He remained silent after he spoke not wanting to reveal more. 

 

Her breath caught in her throat as she heard him choke on his words. Her instinct was to reach through the phone and hold him; comfort him somehow. She knew that not only was it impossible, it would also be counterproductive. They couldn’t fall back into their old ways. If they did, they would just go back to where they were which was dysfunctional. 

 

“I love you too,” she whispered. She couldn’t think of anything else to say at that moment.

 

He let out a huff of air then blinked back tears. “You’re probably busy with things,” he said. Ulquiorra didn’t know what it was, but her previous statement didn’t sound right. She didn’t sound sure of it, like she was saying just because he did.

 

He pulled away. Why did he pull away?   “I’m busy, but I am making time for you. And I’m doing it because I want to.  What’s bothering you?“

 

“I don’t know. Like, I keep thinking how to fix this. Nothing I come up with works,” Ulquiorra confessed after a long pause.

 

She sighed quietly.  “I know. I’m still really hurting.  I can guess that you are too.” She paused and let a few breaths lapse as she considered some options.  “I think we can’t fix it. If we want to make it work, we’re going to have to break it down and rebuild it.”

 

“Do you want to? I mean I said some shitty things. Why would you want me again?”

 

“You did.  You really did say shitty things.  I’m not totally sure if I want to let you back in, to be honest.  I still have feelings for you, but my head is waving warning flags, you know?  I think if you want to get back together, we would have to ‘break it down’ first.”

 

Ulquiorra sighed then rolled onto his stomach. He closed his eyes again, burying his face into the pillow while he thought about this. She was talking about starting over from scratch. It wouldn’t work. He wanted her too much. Then coupled with the fact that she wasn’t even sure she wanted him? It seemed pointless. After a minute of silence, he finally replied with, “You mean actually be friends. Friends don’t wanna fuck each other, Orihime.”

 

She paused for a moment, then sniggered.  “Tell that to Kurosaki. Tell that to Quin.  Tell that to Markus, tell that to me when I was a teenager, or tell that to any other person who has ever harbored a crush on someone they were friends with.  It happens. People do it. The question is, are  _ you  _ willing to do it?  I don’t need an answer now.”

 

“For the record, I never fucked Yui,” he said. Ulquiorra took a deep breath. “Woman, ugh, I’m willing to do it, it’s just--I don't know if I  _ can _ do it. All I’m thinking about right now is how I want to touch you. It’s not appropriate at all if we’re going to  _ be friends _ .”

 

“The difference here, and I think it is the difference you’d have to keep in mind to retain your sanity, perhaps, is that we’d be friends with the goal of getting back together.  Because, I’ll be honest with you, Ulquiorra, I can’t be friends with you long-term. I don’t think I could ever stand beside you and support you as you fell in love with someone else.  I could never go to your wedding as a guest. It would kill me. So it’s not honest to really compare it to an innocent friendship.”

 

He shook his head. She was assuming a lot of shit… Like thinking he’d fall in love with anyone but her. He’d never get married, Ulquiorra had seen the shitshow that resulted in that. He’d become the biggest asshole and playboy if this didn’t work out. “How come you’re not modeling anymore? Is it because…?” he trailed off leaving the question open for inference.

 

Orihime had hoped this wouldn’t come up.  “He didn’t tell you, did he?” She sighed.  “Markus said that without you I was worthless as a model. He fired me, and you got my job.   This is a fickle world, fashion. If Markus deems me unworthy, everyone else follows suit. I stopped getting offers.”

 

His jaw clenched. That blond bastard had lied to him, telling him that Orihime had decided to quit. “Backstabbing--” Ulquiorra stopped because he didn’t want to get angry while on the phone. “So, explain to me how do we be friends? It has to be different than the friendship I have with Yui.”

 

She cringed hearing him talk about her. Orihime had met Yui several times before.  She was lovely. A nice person. It made her extremely uncomfortable. She saw their modeling shots together.  Ulquiorra had looked like he was following direction well, acting however bored or interested in her a photographer asked.  The same could not be said for Yui. She was clearly interested for real. 

 

That wasn’t his fault though, and she wasn’t going to bring it up.  She took a few breaths to shake it off. “Yes, it would be different.  Very very different,” she assured him. “I don’t know how to do it… I guess we just start by being friendly, and not strangers?”

 

Ulquiorra could tell this was going to be awkward. His fists opened and closed several times, and he registered the feeling in his brain as frustration and irritation. “Nod and smile; try not to remember what you feel like? Okay. I can try.”

 

“Um, I’m not going to ask you to do that.  I won’t do it. I can’t see our pictures plastered around town and not feel like I’ve been punched in the face with the smell of your soap or…” Orihime trailed off, realizing she was quickly headed for a destination she had just roped off as off-limits.  “I don’t want to pretend to be the thought police. We can’t forget the past. That’s not what I want to do. But we can’t go back to what we were. If we do, it will end the same way it ended before. Maybe we should just not hang out? Just talk on the phone? I mean, if we see each other out, then it’s fine, and we can be social…”  She groaned softly. “I never said it would be easy. I’m willing to do it anyway.”

 

“You’re not going to become a dragon if I bring dates to places, are you? I know how you get,” Ulquiorra said with an amused tone. “I mean… I’d get the same way.”

 

Her eyes narrowed.  “I would absolutely be a dragon.  Let’s not bullshit each other.”

 

“Right, so go solo to all these events,” he replied. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. This wasn’t going to work. He could feel like it wasn’t going to work because he’d slip up and break this friend thing. The need to be sexual with her was overwhelming. He needed and wanted her close by him. They said they would be friends months ago and looked what happened. He ended up defiling her by taking her virginity. “I might be able to do this if we never see each other.”

 

She whined a little.  “I go solo to events all the time. The only person I ever go out with is Quin.”

 

“Don’t bitch… You wanna be friends. I want to fuck your brains out.” It was a crude statement, but hopefully, it got his point across.

 

She was getting irritated.  He was missing the point and focusing on keywords instead of seeing the big picture.  “I can’t be the only one doing the work to fix this. You either want us to work, or you don’t.  I can’t go back to you, back to how we were, and feel good about myself. Not after what you said.  I would always doubt you. I would always feel victimized. I don’t want that. I want to make things right, but I can’t do it by myself.”

 

“I want us to work, but I’m just saying, it sucks I’m not going to be able to hang out with you,” Ulquiorra said. “I said I was willing to make it work; I just don’t know if I can keep the whole ‘just friends’ thing going around you, alone. There would have to be people around us constantly.”

 

“Oh absolutely.  I wasn’t suggesting otherwise.  I’m not a saint, Ulquiorra,” she responded quickly.  “We’re not going to be going for coffee or pizza kind of ‘friends’.  We’d be 'call each other and see each other out' kind of friends.”

 

“More like call you when I’m drunk and send you inappropriate selfies,” he scoffed. It was more at himself than Orihime. “I got a gallery show at the end of this month, on the thirtieth, if you want to go.”

 

She smiled.  “Okay.”

 

***

 

A week passed, Ulquiorra texted Orihime at least once a day. He called her every other day. Sometimes, he would just listen to her talk and other times he would offer up some words. He didn’t like this, but he had to deal with it.  Which was fine until Markus told him that he was collaborating with a fragrance line and they wanted Ulquiorra to model. It didn’t make sense for him to be naked for fucking pictures. What the hell did being naked, a fashion designer and a fucking bottle of smelly shit have to do with one another?

 

So he went to the photoshoot and saw Yui there. She was wearing a robe and bounded up to him. “Murcielago! Guess who your co-star is today!”

  
He rolled his eyes. This was awesome. Markus told him it was a solo shoot. There was no way he could get out of it, and he glared in the blond’s direction. The man merely smirked back at him. 

  
“Let’s get you to wardrobe and makeup so they can make you even sexier!”

 

Forty minutes later, he felt like an absolute fool. Yui had on a drapey mess that looked like the metallic silk one that he had seen Orihime in, but this one looked like an oversized potato sack and didn’t have the poofy skirt attached to it. He, on the other hand, was stark ass naked.

 

“When did you get new tattoos?” Markus demanded as Ulquiorra dropped the towel he was wearing.

 

“Whenever the fuck I wanted?”   


 

“Whatever, keep it up, and you won’t do another gig--”   


 

“You think I care?” Ulquiorra asked and took his place in front of the camera. 

 

Eight hours later, the entire thing was done. Usually, Markus would have Yui be the one who was focused on him, this time it was different. The female model was the stoic, blank-eyed statue while Ulquiorra had to pretend to be interested. The woman was okay for a friend, but she was fucking thirsty when it came to him. She looked at him like a lovesick puppy or a woman who was smitten. Time and time again, Ulquiorra had to remind her that they were friends and friends didn’t hang on each other like she did.

  
  
Yui constantly wanted to hold his arm or elbow. She tried to hold his hand while they would be walking somewhere. It annoyed him. About a week before his show, Yui had invited him out for coffee, and he showed up, like an idiot because he couldn’t spend physical time with his favorite woman. They were still texting and calling each other. Orihime was busy though, and so was he but he had just texted her a question and was waiting for an answer when the waif-like, taller model broke his concentration.

 

“I assume you’ll be taking me to the gallery opening?”

  
  
“What?”

 

Yui sighed. “Your show, you’re going to be accompanying me, right?”

 

Ulquiorra shook his head. “I never attend my shows. I don’t want to be around people.”

 

“Markus said you’re to be there wearing his fashions.”

 

“Markus can eat a dick. He can’t dictate whether or not I go to my things. If he wants to, he can contact my agent.”

 

The woman pursed her lips. “You’ve been awfully fixated with your phone. Who has gotten your attention now? Things still rocky with Inoue? Do you think that’s a good idea?”

 

The green-eyed man regretted even telling the model that he and his ex were “talking” again. She had made all kinds of assumptions about their friendship. Somedays it really seemed like she was jealous by how she acted. “It’s not a big deal. We just talk. She’s busy, and I’m busy--”   
  


“You still have time to see me although you’re  _ busy _ .”

 

“Yui, drop it. You and I are friends. Inoue and I are friends. I’m allowed to have friends that are females, other than you. We are not dating.” With that, he left the cafe and walked back home. He had other things to focus on besides some crazy bitch’s antics. 

 

Later that night, Orihime called Ulquiorra.  There hadn’t been a particular reason; she had just wanted to hear his voice.

 

He picked up, still irritated. “Hey, Woman. Not the best time but I can put aside my anger for you.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I can always call back later if you prefer…”

 

“Nah, you’re fine. Just pissy about some things today. How was your day?”

 

“Work work work.  Aki came over and gave me some constructive criticism.  It’s nice to have someone who is taking an interest in my work and not just my look, you know?”  She sounded like she was trying to tone down her exuberance for his benefit, but she was clearly very pleased.

 

He smiled although Orihime couldn’t see it. Ulquiorra liked hearing about her day. Some days weren’t the best because of her getting frustrated at things. Some days, she sounded so happy. “I haven’t seen any of your designs yet. Holding out on me? Are you doing men’s stuff or just woman’s outfits?”

 

“I’ve been playing around with some ideas for menswear, but I’m still not sure whether I’ll put any in my collection this time.  I’m blowing my entire budget on fabric and supplies, so when it comes to a show or photography, I’m going to have to model most of it myself.  Maybe I can rope some underclassmen into helping out. I’d feel bad about not being able to pay them though. I’d ask Uryu but…” she paused to sigh.  “I owe him a lot of money as-is. He says not to worry about it, but come on, right?”

 

“I know a guy who’d be willing to model your menswear for free,” Ulquiorra teased. “You just gotta watch him get dressed and undressed as payment.”

 

She smiled although he couldn’t see it.  “Your pimp would never let that fly. When does your contract expire?” She giggled, but she was actually curious.

 

“Markus can go fuck himself and so can my agent,” Ulquiorra stated. He let out a heavy sigh. “I told you I had that photoshoot today for whatever Markus is doing, right? He told me it was a solo shoot. Just me.”

 

“And?”  She could tell by his tone that there was more to this story.

 

“I had to pose naked with--” Ulquiorra paused. Sometimes when he mentioned his modeling partner, she got growly and jealous. He couldn’t really not tell her though. “Yui and I posed together. Then we went to get coffee afterward and she started flipping out on me about you.”

 

Orihime was snarling inwardly.  “Ulquiorra, I know you often take things very literally, at face value.  That whole, ‘the things that cannot be reflected in my eyes have no meaning’ philosophy still follows you around sometimes, doesn’t it?” She asked serenely.

 

He scoffed. “Tch. Maybe? What about it? Yui’s been trying to get in my pants ever since I posed with her and I’ve told her time and time again that I was not interested.”

 

She chuckled.  “You may have mentioned that a time or two… But now she’s becoming possessive of you.  I’m sorry to tell you, but she’s  _ not _ your friend, Ulquiorra.  She thinks she’s your girlfriend.  Or as good as your girlfriend, anyway.  She sees me as a threat.”

 

"I already have a girlfriend, and I'm talking to her right now," he said absently wanting to get away from the topic of the other model. 

 

Her heart melted.  Before she could censor herself, a tiny “Aww,” slipped passed her lips.  She shook her head and cleared her throat and said, “Well, Yui doesn’t care if that’s true or not.  And now I’m going to have to kill her for trying to force you into a fake relationship and for seeing you naked.  Sorry Yui, it’s been nice knowing you.” She frowned at herself afterward, embarrassed for being so transparent.

 

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. The redhead amused him. “Yui wants me to take her to my show, and I told her I don’t attend them. She got pissy… so if you do kill her, do it before opening night, yeah?”

 

She chuckled and sighed with a smile.  “Ugh… so she is going to be there, huh?  Might be a little awkward when I show up.  Would it make things easier on you if I came with someone?”

 

“Do I need to rip someone’s testicles off that night?” Ulquiorra asked. He didn’t bother to mask the jealousy. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date.”

 

She blushed.  “I do want to.  But is it a good idea?  I mean I guess if we meet there it’s not really crossing the boundaries…”

 

Ulquiorra groaned. Not this shit again. She wouldn’t even do a video call with him because it was still seeing each other. He thought it was a perfect compromise. “I was going to ask you to go to dinner beforehand but since you don’t like that idea, we can meet at the gallery.”

 

“Hey, don’t put words in my mouth, I love that idea.  I just don’t think it’s a wise one. Give me some credit; I know you’re a good time.”

 

“I’m not here to show you a good time. I’m here to be your friend,” he stated flatly. “We can meet at the gallery. It’s not a big deal. I probably wouldn’t behave myself. Besides, Markus and his shit for brains crew are going. I’d love to walk in that gallery with you.”

 

“Well, I could meet you outside.  It would be a fabulous ‘fuck you’ opportunity to walk in arm in arm.  I’m not bitter about what happened with Markus at all,” she said with lots of faux innocence.

 

“Sarcasm suits you,” he replied. Then his tone got serious. “I miss you, Woman. I know, just friends but I do.”

 

“You can be honest about how you feel, you know.  We aren’t  _ just friends.  _ We’re just acting like it.  I miss you too.”

 

He nodded. Ulquiorra knew. “Come over,” he murmured to her, turning the charm on and making his voice take on a seductive tone.

 

She groaned.  “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”  She chuckled and said, “I was never one of your conquests you know.  You never had to use any game with me. You had me with “ _ Your hold the rope to the guillotine that hangs over your friends’ necks,”  _ or however you put it.”  She burst into good-natured laughter before she could finish.

 

HMPH. Here she was mocking him again. It always happened when he tried this tactic. “You gotta tell me if I lay it on thick,” he replied. Ulquiorra smirked at himself. It was corny, but it seemed fitting. “I was stupid as an Arrancar, so disregard anything I said then.”

 

“I will do no such thing!  You were, on occasion, my biggest cheerleader as an Arrancar.  You were the only person to recognize my power. You were the only person who thought I was not inferior to Kurosaki and the others. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself…” she was getting lost in memories.  “You made me stronger.”

 

Ulquiorra had heard this from her before. It made him shake his head every time she said it. He decided to distract Orihime. “You know, you might be able to see my new tattoos in that ad campaign. Unless I can show you a preview of them before it comes out.”

 

“As long as it’s not on your penis feel free to send me a pic,” she said.

 

He laughed. “I guess, you’ll have to wait then.”

 

“WHAT?!  You got a tattoo on your dick?!  Does it still work?!”

 

“I’ve offered to show you that it works many times,” Ulquiorra replied. He smirked again at the little whine she did. “No, it’s on my upper thigh, really close to it. It requires me to take off my jeans and underwear to see it.”

 

She harrumphed.  “I guess I’ll just have to wait then.”

 

“Can’t say I didn’t offer to share.”

 

“Guess not.”  She sighed contentedly.  “Ulquiorra?”

 

“Hmmm, Woman?” he replied.

 

“I— I know it’s not very friendly to say, but I love you.”

 

His face got warm as he listened to her. This woman did strange things to his brain and his nerves and his endorphins. She was a feel-good drug in the form of a person. “Fuck being friends, Orihime.”

 

She smiled.  When she responded, it wasn’t lecturing or heavy-handed.  Her tone was the same as before. “No. We need to be friends and lovers.  We have to get the friend thing down first. We’re getting there; I just wanted to remind you why.  Well, and I just wanted to tell you.”

 

“I love you, too.”


	16. Friends

Ulquiorra stopped at Markus’ studio to get his suit. Uryu had left explicit instructions on what he was to do and he had better not screw it up. He wasn’t happy when he got home and saw the overly long white buttoned oxford shirt and black leather trousers. It was all topped off with a fucking green long sweater. Who in the fashion world decided Markus had a sense of style because to Ulquiorra he didn’t. The blond was fashion dumb.

  
  
As he read the Quincy’s instructions, it told him that he was to put on the shirt then the sweater and somehow show off his forearms. By pushing or rolling the sleeves up. Then he was to put on eyeliner and style his hair.

 

He looked at the outfit in the mirror and decided to leave the sweater in the garment bag. The olive green color did nothing for his pale complexion and since it was still summer, it was too fucking hot for it.

 

The tunic looking oxford did him no favors but he rolled up the sleeves, thinking it’d make more sense to just make the sleeves half-length; it would save on costs.

 

Ulquiorra texted Orihime a picture of himself before he left his apartment, notifying her that he would be at the gallery soon.

 

Orihime spent the day of the gallery opening at home fretting.  She wanted to wear something from her new collection, but was nervous about how it would be received, especially by Ulquiorra.

 

She also wanted to fix her hair.  The black streaks had to go. She wasn’t grieving anymore.  She called a friend who was a stylist apprentice and asked her to come over.  An hour and half later, and about two shopping bags full of black hair trimmings, and much of the black had been thinned and trimmed out of the longer layers of her hair.  It wasn’t as noticeable as before, and then the stylist did a color stripping treatment to lighten what was left. It was still darker than the rest of her hair, but it was much more subtle.  She was satisfied for now.

 

After her hair was done she went to her room and stared at the pieces of her collection that she had brought home.  It was a winter collection and it was currently August, which presented a bit of a challenge. Oh well, no one but Aki had seen any of it yet. She went for the lightest piece, a long white dress shirt with a military collar.  She tried it on and shook her head. It wasn’t what she wanted to show him.

 

She went for the next piece.  It was a little obvious, but it should definitely get Ulquiorra’s attention.   It was a plain black strapless dress with a straight neckline highlighted by a white band.  It was made out of a very light, soft fabric that fitted her form from bust to hips and flared out very slightly over her legs.  Another white band encircled her hips like a low-slung belt. There was a sheer black underskirt that was visible in front where the dress parted in a keyhole cutout right under her crotch, with more white banding along the hem of the main skirt.  The entire dress was a replica of the one she had worn in Hueco Mundo, in a negative color scheme, and without the unseasonal cape thing.

 

She was confident in the design.  She wasn’t confident about the reaction if would get from Ulquiorra.  She hoped he would appreciate it for what it was and not take it in some kind of bad way.

 

She even took out and polished her old hair clips, fastening both of them just above her right ear in a crisscross fashion, just peeking out from under her hair.

 

She was out of time and it was time to go.

 

Ulquiorra stood outside of the gallery smoking a cigarette and talking with the owner of the place. This building was much more minimalist and simplistic in design than the gallery he’d previously shown in.  The light wood floor and white walls did his art a favor. The lighting was just right so he didn’t have to pick and choose where which painting went, saying a particular painting couldn’t go there because it didn’t look right.

 

He was just about to finish his smoke when he saw Orihime turn the corner, walking towards him. She looked stunning but he couldn’t help think how much better the dress would have appeared if the colors were reversed. Ulquiorra met her before she even reached the gallery doors, looking at her. His eyes traveled from her face down her body and down to her toes.

 

“Woman,” he said to her.

 

“Ulquiorra,” she responded, pleased by his reaction, smiling up at him.

 

His hand came up and he used the surface of his knuckles to caress her face. “I see you liked my fashion sense,” he said, only marginally stopping himself from kissing her.

 

She blushed at his touch and her eyes dropped demurely.  Then, as he asked his question, her eyes lit up and returned to his.  “You? Your fashion sense?" She found it hard to believe what he was implying.

 

A half-smirk crosses his face. “I hand picked everything for you. It was my responsibility.”

 

She beamed at him.  “You have excellent taste,” she said, turning toward his side and threading her arm through his.  “You ready?” She asked.

 

“I’m not but I’m already fashionably late to my own party.” He smiled at her. The gallery had been open for an hour: Markus and his band of idiots showed up about fifteen minutes ago. He bid the owner a farewell for now and allowed Orihime to enter the building first.

 

She crossed the threshold and waited, scanning the area.  She could see the back of Uryu’s head. She was feeling a bit anxious, hoping Ulquiorra would hurry up and join her.

 

He followed directly behind her after putting his cigarette out. Ulquiorra had told Yui that he didn’t attend his own shows but what was he doing? Making an appearance with his ex-girlfriend. It was mostly a fuck you to Markus and the other model. Placing his hand on the small of her back, Ulquiorra smiled at Orihime. “C’mon beautiful,” he said.

 

She glowed at his words and allowed him to direct her movement.  It wasn’t long before murmurs began.

 

The whispers didn’t bother him. He’d heard rumors about himself before. Ulquiorra smiled at people and nodded, ignoring the scandalized glances, gossiping humans, and the sounds of camera shutters going off. They were definitely going to be in the magazine and fashion blogs later.

 

Uryu was first to approach them, nodding to Ulquiorra and putting his hands on Orihime’s shoulders and air-kissing her cheeks.  “I didn’t know you were coming, Boo!” he said with false cheer, giving her a discreet warning glance. “Um, is this from your new collection?”

 

She smiled at him in a practiced manner.  “Yes, thanks for noticing.”

 

It was difficult for him not to get jealous. He knew Uryu had a boyfriend and that the man was gay but still it was a struggle. “That sweater was too much and I looked like a mom of four who woke up late, trying to get her kids off to school,” Ulquiorra said to the Quincy.

 

Uryu honestly didn’t care.  He was beginning to tire of Markus’ diva moments.  He didn’t even think Markus was that talented. He was merely attracted to him and riding his star.  He was sick of being treated like a peon at times and a go-between always. “I really don’t give a shit if you burn those rags,” he whispered, leaning in toward Ulquiorra’s ear.

 

“Ha,” Ulquiorra laughed. “I plan to. I’m glad I only have a month of that contract left and then I can take my woman and crawl back into the hole I emerged from.”

 

Orihime blushed at the endearment and the implied meaning of his words.  

 

“So, you two are back together?  I’m not home much, but it seems like you’re still sleeping at home, Hime.  What’s the deal?” he asked, mildly curious.

 

“We’re taking it slow…” she offered as a tentative explanation.

 

“We’re talking, not that it’s any of your business.” Ulquiorra huffed. “But like she said, we’re taking it slow and just enjoying our friendship.”

 

“You don’t look like friends to me.  Just sayin’,” Uryu said before turning around and returning to his group.

 

Ulquiorra turned and looked at Orihime. “What does he mean by that?” He asked her.

 

“He means he thinks we look like a couple,” she translated.

 

He shrugged one shoulder. “Fuck ‘em if they can’t handle it,” he replied. “Would you like to see the fruit of our heartbreak?”

 

“Sure.  I’m already wearing some,” she said cheerfully, although she was somewhat worried about what she might see.

 

Twenty-five paintings done by him were scattered around the open room. Most of them were abstract nonsense he had churned out in a drunken and enraged haze. He’d done the paintings of bloody Nnoitra, Grimmjow in his release state and himself as a bat, after being pierced by the crystal tree. Some of the paintings were self portraits and there were two triptychs. Only three of the paintings featured Orihime. The Woman and the Moon, Midori No Ai and a painting of her hand and hair intertwining.

 

“I don’t know what I was expecting, she said softly after looking at everything.  I’m relieved to see The Woman and the Moon survived though,” she sighed deeply, patting his arm.  “I am really sorry about what happened to us,” she added, looking up at the painting.

 

“It had to happen and I’m glad that it happened sooner rather than later down the road when our lives were more tangled.” Ulquiorra gave her a sad smile. “It is what it is.”

 

He was right, she realized as she nodded back in silence, catching a glimpse of his bittersweet smile and pushing down a strong urge to kiss those lips.  She couldn’t look away from them.

 

“What?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

 

“Nothing,” she murmured dreamily, the corners of her lips pricking up and her cheeks dusting pink.  She still didn’t break her gaze.

 

Ulquiorra smirked. “Hey, uh, Woman. My eyes are up here,” he teased. “If you want, I can take you back to that private room that is waiting for me. I can give you the green room treatment.”

 

She narrowed her eyes as they found his.  “How many times have you done that, that you have a name for it?”  She smirked and looked back at the art.

 

“I never have done that. You’d were the first person who I ever let back there to meet me,” he murmured, leaning closer to her ear. “We could leave right now… Go to your place… or mine.”

 

She shivered involuntarily.  “Don’t tempt me, heathen!” She laughed and added, “We have more fuck yous to dish out, anyway.  Speaking of which…”. Her voice trailed off as she looked past Ulquiorra to see Yui approaching from across the room wearing a confused expression.

 

“Shit.” He saw the woman coming towards them. While she looked confused, Ulquiorra could tell Yui was mad by the hard line of her mouth and the way she had her arms crossed over her  barely there chest.

 

“Murcielago! Hello, Inoue.” Yui’s greeting was polite… In fact it was far too polite. The smile that she let spread over her face was too wide to be comfortable. “I thought you said you weren’t coming Murcielago?”

 

Ulquiorra shrugged. “I decided at the last minute to invite Orihime along.”

 

“Ah,” Yui commented. “That’s such a nice dress Inoue. It fits your _curvy_ frame well.”

 

Orihime fought the urge to roll her eyes.  “Why thank you, Yui. It really does take a certain amount of flesh to pull this look off, doesn’t it?”  She laughed self-deprecatingly. “It’s nice to see you. You look a bit tired though. I know Markus can be a slave driver but don’t be afraid to say no to him.  Uryu can keep him in line,” she added with another laugh and a fake-ass grin. “I see he tried to dress you like a soccer mom, too. Murcielago had to edit his outfit for the same reason.”

 

“Well I’m tired because I have work. I’m in demand,” Yui answered. Her tone was snotty. She laid a hand on Ulquiorra’s chest. “After our new ad comes out, Murcielago and I will have even more work to do together.”

 

Orihime flinched just enough for Ulquiorra to feel it through his hand although it wasn’t visible.   “Is that so? Well enjoy it while it lasts, sweetie. You know how things go. Are you going to audition for more prominent designers after the next collection comes out or are you going to ride Markus’ train until it peters out?”  She spoke as if she and Yui were just a couple of girlfriends gossiping.

 

The other model gave a strained smile. “Oh I’ll go wherever Murcielago goes. We look so good together, isn’t that right?”

 

Ulquiorra sighed. “I’m not modeling anymore after my contract with Markus is up, Yui. I only did it for Orihime. She doesn’t model anymore so what’s the point? Modeling takes a lot of time I don’t have. I could be focusing on her and our relationship.”

 

In an instant Yui’s face fell. “Oh. I see.” Without another word, the model turned and left, quickly walking to the other side of the room where Markus stood.

 

The artist looked at Orihime for a moment. “Was I too blunt? Too harsh?”

 

“No, you were perfect,” she said, wrapping her hand around his elbow and giving it a squeeze.  “I was too much, though,” she said with a cringe.

 

“Never. You could be so extra and it still wouldn’t be enough. She deserved every word you told her,” Ulquiorra replied. He looked over at Yui who was talking animatedly to Markus and his assistants. “I’m going to have to go over there soon and talk to him. Do you want to wander around while I do that?”

 

“Sure.  I mean, I could come but I don’t want to make things awkward for you.  Besides I can show off my dress I guess.”

 

He brushed the back of his hand across her bare shoulder. “It’s a beautiful dress… Such a shame it’s gonna be on the floor later,” Ulquiorra said with a smile. He picked up her hand and kissed the knuckles. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

 

He left her standing there blushing and stunned.  She watched him walk away and felt the need for a drink.  They were still supposed to be following this ‘friends only’ charade.  They hadn’t talked about him taking her home. She found the idea difficult to resist.  

 

A man passed by with a tray of sparkling wine and Orihime took one, sipped on it, and began a lap around the gallery.

 

Ulquiorra joined Markus’ little entourage, giving the designer a baleful look. “I’m here,” he said petulantly.  

  
  
“Murciela--Where is the rest of the outfit?” Markus squealed.

  
  
He rolled his eyes. “It’s at home. This outfit is horrendous. You have Yui looking like a English school marm and I would have looked like a frumpy soccer mom had I put that thing on.” He was stealing Orihime’s words and didn’t care. “Besides, it is too damn warm for sweaters.”

 

“Psht.” Markus scoffed. “I see you walked in with Inoue… Are you two an item again?”

  
  
“Somewhat, not that that is any of your business.”

  
  
In the expected diva fashion, Markus waved a hand. “I have someone who wants to meet you. They run a--”

  
  
“I don’t care. I’ve fulfilled my contract with you. I’ve done all my appearances and once the naked ad runs, I’m done.” Ulquiorra said in a dull voice.

 

“Darling, if you’re back with Inoue, I can have her--”

 

“She’s not interested. She will be focusing on her own designs which is what she should have been doing from the start, not catering to your whims.”

 

“Of course you would say that.”

  
  
“Enjoy the refreshments, Markus. Heaven knows you only come to these things for the free shit.” Ulquiorra turned and walked towards the redhead that was talking to some people.

 

***

 

The gallery show would run for the entire month but Ulquiorra had sold all of the paintings except for one. He was listening to the owner talk about cuts and percentages but he didn’t care. The Woman and The Moon would be coming back home with him. He bid the man goodnight, eager to find Orihime. He didn’t have to look far.

 

She stood in a group of four or five acquaintances chatting about the art and their current projects.  Most of them were only talking to hear themselves speak, but at least Orihime and one other showed genuine interest.  

 

Her interest shifted, however, when she heard him address her.

 

“Woman,” he said. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, admiring her form. He reached for her elbow, grasping it, making her turn toward him. “We have a reservation for a late dinner.”

 

“Oh?” she asked, raising a brow at him.  The sparkling wine had caused her to be much more open to suggestion.  “I don’t know how I could have forgotten.”

 

He took her hand, and they walked out of the building. He turned to her once they started strolling down the sidewalk. “Orihime, I lied. We don’t have reservations anywhere but if you’d like to pick a place, we’ll go there and eat. My treat… A first date of sorts for us.”

 

A smile spread slowly across her face as she thought about what he said. “Actually, I think this would be a first date _for real_ for us,” and giggled.  “Hmm… do you like shabu shabu?”

 

He nodded. “Is that what you want?”

 

“Yes!”  She nodded, and looked down at her feet, still smiling.  He was holding her hand and they were walking down the street together, not running to the nearest dark corner for a naughty assgrab or something like that.  It was nice.

 

Ulquiorra used his free hand to look up the nearest restaurant that served what she wanted to eat. There was one rather close by so it didn’t take them long to travel the couple of blocks to the place.  When they were seated in a booth, Ulquiorra looked at Orihime. She was blushing and had a goofy grin on her face. It made him scowl for a moment so the creases on his forehead, between his eyebrows showed up. “Are you drunk or merely tipsy?”

 

“Neither.  I didn’t finish my first glass.  I’m--” she blushed and looked down again.

 

“You’re what? Happy?”

 

The smile on her face grew wider, and he could see the apples of her cheeks ball up.  “Yep.”

 

He chuckled. “Do you plan on going back to modeling?” Ulquiorra asked. He had a reason for asking this question.

 

“Not especially.  If someone offered me a gig I would consider it but it’s not a career path I want to pursue.”

 

Ulquiorra nodded his head. It was time to own up to what happened and what he did. He reached out for her hand, hoping she would take it. "You know, I love you Orihime. We've been talking constantly for almost 2 weeks now. I'm happy that we can be friends. I hope it continues and grows. Maybe next time we happen to hang out, we can catch a movie or get coffee. I told you that night at the club that I wanted to talk and I wasn’t sure of what I wanted to say then but I am sure now.”

 

She took the hand that he offered and listened until he paused, watching him intently.  “What do you want to say?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

 

"There are times that I, uh, wish that I could be a hollow again but I can't. You knew what I was like as one. I was a smooth talker. I mean how else could I get a teenager to come with me?" Ulquiorra smiled at her. "I'm a human though and I have an irrational brain. I'm not a level-headed Espada any more. Though, to be fair, when you came into my life, things got skewed a bit."

 

Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I regret what I said and what I did to you. I should have thought about things in a logical manner before jumping to conclusions. It was because I screwed up. I only considered my own feelings. I should have taken yours into account also and I didn't. I apologize for that. I apologize for everything."

 

"I was selfish. I was scared. I want you back. I want to wake up beside you. I love you."

 

She squeezed his hand.  “I love you, too, but I’m glad you’re not hollow anymore.  I mean, there are a lot of reasons but the first one that comes to mind is that it would be kind of awkward to be able to look through a guy’s chest to see the ceiling light during sex, but I digress,” she said, trying to break the tension he had built with his confession.  She smiled and sighed then, adding, “I apologize too, for not trusting you enough to tell you the truth, even while demanding your trust. Please know that I never meant to deceive or trap you. My intention was to protect you from unnecessary stress. I realize though, now, that it wasn’t fair; it wasn’t something I should have decided on my own.  I hope you’ll forgive me.”

 

“It took two months but I realize that now. I said some pretty shitty things to you and I am so sorry,” Ulquiorra said, quietly, looking at their hands. “I want to do that with you though...”

 

“Hm?  Do what?”

 

“That whole procreation thing.”

 

She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and she could smell copper.  What he said was a game changer. It was hard for Orihime to swallow after everything that had happened, even after his confession and apology.  She had to clear her throat several times, and found she couldn’t look at him. “What did you say? Are you serious?” she eventually asked in a gravelly voice.

 

Ulquiorra frowned. Maybe he had said the wrong thing. “I didn’t mean right now. But you know when we’re back together or in the future, we can try?”

 

A tear fell onto the tabletop without her noticing.  Another joined it. She nodded silently as several more littered the surface.  She choked and couldn’t speak, but she continued to nod, finally making eye contact with him again.

 

“Why are you crying, Woman?”

 

Her eyes widened in confusion and she shrugged her shoulders as she brought her free hand to her face and wiped her eyes as she sputtered, “I just can’t believe it.”

 

“Sometimes I can’t either. It was a couple of days ago when I was talking to you that I realized it,” he said to her. “I fucked us up, Orihime. I’m sorry.”

 

“What made you realize?”

 

“Uh, well, I was laying in bed after, I, ya know,” he said and blushed. Ulquiorra looked away from her for a moment. “And realized I would do anything for you. I gave you my heart once and I figured I could give it to you again and the rest of my world to make you happy.”

 

Orihime needed a minute to process what he was saying.  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It sounded to her like a desperate plea.  She could understand that. She felt similarly. It bothered her somewhat that he would appeal to her instincts though when from what he said his only motivation for doing so was to placate her.  She wasn’t angered, but she was cautious. She finally screwed up her thoughts into something coherent and looked up at him with a small smile. “Don’t put yourself in a position where you’ll end up regretting your words or feeling forced to go along with something you think I want that you are not sure about.  If you do, I’m afraid we’ll end up where we were two months ago.”

 

Ulquiorra did not understand. He was offering her what she wanted, why was she shooting him down? The confusion showed on his face. “I’m not understanding. I’m not forcing myself to do anything. I want to be happy with you. If being a mother would make you happy I would do it in a heartbeat.”

 

She smiled at him warmly.  “I know that’s what you mean.  But I don’t want you to do it if it’s not something you want for yourself..”

 

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow. “It is something I want but not right now. Soon though.” He decided to change subjects just in case they started arguing about little trivial things. “I sold every painting except for the original painting I did.”

 

She rose her eyebrows, “That’s wonderful, congratulations!” She was grateful for the change of topic as well.  She didn’t think she’d be able to recover from that bombshell on her own. “I wonder what kind of person wanted the bloody Nnoitra though,” she said with a look of distaste.

 

“Probably some young CEO wanting to show off how edgy they are,” he replied. “Do you have a favorite painting that I’ve done?”

 

“Do you mean of all time or just this show?”

 

“Both? Either? I want to paint something for you, maybe you can hang it over your bed.” Ulquiorra was nervous because he’d never offered to paint something for someone.

 

Her heart swelled, and it showed on her face.  “Yes, I do. I mean, I have a soft spot for your original painting because of its personal history for us, but it’d be weird to have a painting of myself.  I’m not royalty or something,” she said with a laugh. “I don’t know if you were watching at the first show of yours that I went to, but there was an abstract piece that really grabbed my attention.  I felt so peaceful looking at it.”

 

He tried to remember what he had painted but eventually had to get his phone out and swiped through the photos on it. Ulquiorra only had painted a couple of abstracts for that art show. Ulquiorra handed his phone to her. “Tell me which one,” he said.

 

She took the phone and swiped through the pictures.  He could tell immediately when she got to the one that she liked;  her features relaxed and an easy smile played on her lips. “This is it.  I found it so gentle and soothing compared to the others. I really was fond of it,” she said, handing him his phone back displaying a picture of the abstract black and white painting with turquoise and orange swirling through it.

 

“Ah this one.” He was rather fond of that painting too. Ulquiorra thought it reminded him of his uniform in Hueco Mundo. It also reminded him of Orihime and all the colors she had brought to that bleak landscape. “I’ll paint you something, Woman.”

 

“Yeah?” she smiled, wondering what had brought this on.  She decided wondering was stupid when she could just ask.  “What brought this on?”

 

“I have to have a reason to do something nice for you?” Ulquiorra asked.

 

She laughed.  “No, I was just wondering.  I’m looking forward to seeing it.”  She leaned back into her seat and sighed, looking at him with a face that clearly showed she was thinking things over, considering possibilities.  She looked happy.

 

Ulquiorra mimicked her stance, showing that he was at ease. Although his face showed he was calm and relaxed, his thoughts were a jumbled mess in his head. “I have to keep The Woman and the Moon. I talk to it everyday. I did it before you came back into my life and when we… When we broke up, I started to do that again. It sounds fucking crazy, I know but since you’re not around me anymore--I sound insane. I guess what I’m saying is I really miss you.”

 

“It doesn’t sound crazy.  I miss you too. If I had something to hold onto I would probably speak to it too .  As it was, Uryu was so worried that he started sleeping at home again. I was really not doing well…  I think he considered having me hospitalized at one point but I talked him out of it. He really is a worrywart.”

 

The man sat up straighter and looked at her, his expression darkened. Had what he said and what he had done affected her that much? “Orihime, are you--Are you serious? I didn’t--Fuck.” Ulquiorra left his side of the booth and went to sit next to her. He grabbed her hand, pressing kisses into the back of it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

Seeing him so distraught over her made her heart ache.  She pulled his body toward her and rested her head against his shoulder.  “I’m sorry. It’s just… the thought of losing you, _again,_ was too much.  I was sure I wouldn’t get a third chance.  And seeing the reminders of how we were all over town didn’t help things.  The pictures were so beautiful…” she trailed off, feeling her throat constrict at the bitter memories.

 

He promised to be good; to behave but it was hard because she was now touching him. He let one of his hands trail down the side of her face the he pulled slightly back, looking at her. He studied everything he could about her. The way her hair looked now; the curve of her jaw; the way her lips looked under the lights in the restaurant; those deep and dark eyes. How could Ulquiorra think to push away this human who he'd fallen in love with? “I don’t want to let you go, Woman. The moment you say we’re back together you’re going to be living with me. I am going to make love to you… May I kiss you?”

 

Her cheeks colored, and before she could think better of it she nodded.  Although she wasn’t sure about jumping back into it with him so suddenly, for the sake of their future, at this moment she couldn’t deny him a kiss that she wanted so desperately.

 

His breath hitched and Ulquiorra tilted her head up with gentle hands. Was he doing the right thing? Could he just limit himself to a kiss? He brought his mouth closer to hers, feeling the soft rush of the air coming out of her mouth against his face. Swallowing, he brought his lips to hers, tenderly nipping the bottom one before completing the lip lock, pressing his mouth to hers fully.

 

She closed her eyes and her breath began to shake as tears welled around the rims of her eyelashes.  She leaned into the kiss for just a moment before pulling back. She expected to feel emotional, but she didn’t expect her reaction to be this extreme.  The intensity was alarming. She opened her eyes and found his closed. She brought a soft hand up to his cheek and brushed the surface of his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb, then her other hand came to rest on his other cheek, and she knelt up on her knees to rest her forehead against his, holding his face between her hands, breathing his breath as she struggled to regain hers.

 

Tears burned behind his eyes. This emotion was overwhelming. It was too much. His throat constricted. This wasn’t supposed to be this intense. It was supposed to be a kiss. Ulquiorra opened his eyes halfway to peek at her when he felt her head touch his own. He wanted to talk to her; to tell her anything. “I--” Ulquiorra couldn’t even finish his words because he was so wrapped up in his emotions for this woman.

 

He could feel it too.  Whatever this was, this powerful thing that seemed to wrap around them, had each of them too humbled to speak.  Orihime took a deep breath, his scent filling her lungs and making her weaker still, then simply whispered, “I know.  Me too.”


	17. A Tentative Date

When the naked fragrance ad ran almost a week later, most critics tore apart Markus and his venture. Yui looked dismal in her outfit, and they said that the use of using Murcielago who was inked from neck to thighs was tacky. Ulquiorra’s facial expressions came across as bored while Yui tried her best to convey a brainless twit. Ulquiorra had not seen the proofs from the campaign just what he saw on billboards and in magazines.

He had smelled that scent. It smelled like someone mixed together with hot hippie with douchebag and cat piss.

  
His agent sent him the entire thing though. He looked like a damn thug. The birdcage tattooed above the cherry blossom was too dark against his pale skin. The orange swirls that decorated his upper thigh and part of his ass were too bright, standing out too much against the droll background. In one picture there was even the hint of the words, “I reject,” in kanji across the underside of his wrist.

 

After the scene in the restaurant, Ulquiorra didn’t trust himself around her. He wanted to be with her too much to be _just friends_.  He texted her on her birthday and had a bouquet of flowers sent to her apartment. She invited him out to celebrate with her and some friends, but he declined, saying that he would monopolize her time and everyone would hate him for it.

 

The news about their recoupling spread through the fashion world like fire. The news was included in some celebrity blogs. It wasn’t anything big, but people speculated why Murcielago supposedly broke it off with Yui and got back together with his ex. Ulquiorra didn’t even bother correcting anyone anymore. It took too much of his energy and time trying to tell people they were wrong.

 

_\- You see it yet?_

 

He sent the text message to Orihime.

 

  * _Which one? o.O_



 

Her reply had been silly, but she was serious.  There was a lot to deal with in the space of a week.  Her phone had been buzzing non-stop after over two months of silence.  She was interesting again, apparently. She declined most of the offers she received to model.  However, she was desperately short on cash. She accepted a few small jobs. She had a birthday.  She worked on her collection. She said, “no comment” from unsolicited callers. She texted Ulquiorra.

 

It was always the highlight of her day.

 

She understood why he had backed off after their date.  They had both become very emotional and although they didn’t talk about it explicitly, they knew neither would be satisfied being “just friends” after that if they were face to face.  It was was all a farce at this point anyway. They were never just friends.

 

Their artificial friendship was starting to bear fruit, though.  Orihime knew what was coming with the fragrance ad campaign. She had been warned by Ulquiorra and Uryu.  She had been dreading it. However, when it came out, she merely laughed. She saw him stand there with that willowy tart and laughed.  When did Yui lose her ability to model? She looked like a hack! Ulquiorra looked completely disinterested in what was going on. She didn’t feel threatened by the pictures at all.

 

Well, a bit.  She couldn’t stop staring at his ass.  She couldn’t stop staring at his new ink, trying to infer the meaning of the things she could see and struggling to piece pictures together to make a clear picture of the tattoos that were not completely visible.

 

She knew better than to ask, though.  It was too soon. Wasn’t it?

 

She had accepted a gig to model something for Zerge, who was putting together an ethnically-inspired spring collection.  Zerge didn’t pay much, but he and Orihime had been friendly for a few years. Uryu had also been roped into doing the shoot; he had only modeled twice before, and it was during his first year in college.  It was a fun shoot. Most of the pictures looked kind of like travel catalog pictures to Orihime.

 

There were a few that were a bit more intimate though.  When the pictures came out showing her and Uryu staring deeply into each other’s eyes, hands on each other’s shoulders, she felt uncomfortable.  She was sure the collection wouldn’t get much of a following though. She wouldn’t make an issue out of it if she didn’t have to, and she had told Ulquiorra about the shoot, but when the pictures came out, Orihime thought she out to give him a head’s up.

 

_\- IDK. The ad. The tattoos. The scathing remarks about Markus. LOL, I'm dying over them. The gossip blogs. Take your pick. What's your schedule for this week? Movie, maybe?_

 

Ulquiorra figured she would say what she said every time he asked her out. She would give him an LOL or laugh then a cheery “just friends!“ would be said.

 

She saw his response.  There was a lot to answer.  She had a lot to tell him. Calling would be more efficient.

 

  * _You free?  I’d prefer just to call you if you’re not in the middle of something._



 

Even if he were in the middle of something, Ulquiorra would drop it just to respond to her. He called her, greeting her with, “I am never busy for you, Orihime.”

 

She giggled.  “Aw, you are a sweetie.  Well, I was reading your text and thought there is a lot to talk about, and I have some things to tell you and thought this would be more efficient, to call, I mean,” she took a breath and got right into it.  “Um, yeah… I saw the ad. Markus has clearly lost his touch. What was the shoot like?”

  
He laughed. “Uh, stressful. It was supposed to be just me, and I read a review of the ad where it says he should have used one of us, not both. I mean tensions could have run high because of me. I was pissed off that day.”

 

“Oh yeah? How come?”  she was a sucker for industry gossip.  She couldn’t help herself.

 

“I told you this. Markus lied and brought Yui along. I think it was a tactic to make us seem more like a couple. I don’t know. I’ve gotten offers to model with you in the past week. I said no.”

 

“Me too.   I didn’t respond to them though; they went to voicemail.  Anyway, Markus… What happened to him? How the mighty have fallen.  When I saw the pictures, I had to laugh. You and Yui looked like you hated each other, which is really saying something.  She usually looks like she is completely in love with you. This campaign really fell flat. There was _one_ thing I liked about it though - scratch that - there were a few things I liked.”

 

“Let me guess… My backside?” Ulquiorra answered. “It’s okay, one of these days you’re gonna get to grab it again.”

 

She had been caught out.  She burst into a peal of laughter.  She caught her breath a few moments later and said,  “Well, not _only_ that.  I’m curious about your new tattoos.  I’ve been trying to figure them out on my own, but I’m going to have to see them in person,” she sighed happily.  “Anyway, the gossip blogs _are_ pretty rabid.  I’ve been getting more questions about us than I have been getting offers, and I have been suddenly getting a lot of offers.”

 

Oh. Oh. She wanted to see his new tattoos. That would be bad. “Orihime,” he said, letting his voice drop to a murmur. “C’mon. You can’t say things like that. I’ll tell you about them if you want.”

 

“No, I want to wait,” she answered quietly.  “Sorry… I just… I want it to be like last time.”  She could feel the tension over the line and decided a change in subject was in order.  “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I did that shoot for Zerge a few days ago with Uryu. It went well, but I doubt it will get any traction.  Still, I wanted to give you a heads up, some of the pictures turned out better than expected.”

 

He cleared his throat. “That’s good, isn’t it? I mean things are looking up for you since, you know,” Ulquiorra commented.

 

“Oh yeah, for sure, it’s just…  I remember how I felt when I saw your first couple campaigns with Yui.  I don’t want you to feel the same way,” she said. There was a soft insinuation in her words.

 

Ulquiorra was silent for a moment. “You don’t love him as you love me. I can deal with it.”

 

She smiled, feeling relieved.  “Okay, I just didn’t want you to think I was being sneaky or anything.  You’re right, you know.”

 

“Someone alert the news. I’m right about what?”

 

“I don’t love him like I love you.”

 

“If you did, I could always rip off his hand again.” Ulquiorra chuckled.

 

“Well, look at that!  Personal growth,” she teased.  “I don’t think you really needed a reason last time,” she giggled.  “What’s playing?”

 

Playing? Oh, she meant the movie… “Uh, I got this movie… Called, let me find it.” He rummaged around his desk for a few minutes trying to find the DVD case. “I can’t find it, but we can meet up at a theater.”

 

Orihime was relieved.  She didn’t think going over to his place was a good idea just yet.  She knew full well that once she went over there, it was game over. She’d be living there again.  “That’s what I had in mind, anyway.”

 

“What don’t like my ideas?”

 

“Umm, well, do _you_ think we’re ready?”

 

That was a loaded question. Ulquiorra had to take a minute to assess his feelings. His body was telling him yes, they were absolutely ready. His mind and heart were telling him to give it more time. “You can invite some other people to come along,” he said hastily.

 

“No,” she said firmly.  “I think we can handle a second date.  I don’t think we can handle one at your place though.  As long as we’re in public I think we’ll be okay,” she laughed nervously.  “Anyway, I don’t have any obligations this weekend… Are you free?”

 

“I’m free this entire week.” Ulquiorra sighed. “I think we could be ready, but I’m not sure.”

 

Her face fell.  She took the phone away from her face so he wouldn’t hear her sigh, then brought it back up and pasted a smile on her face.  “Well that’s fine, if you’re not sure, we can do it another time then.”

 

Her voice sounded a bit off. Ulquiorra knew that it was most likely because of his words. “I meant about us, not the date.”

 

Oh.  Hm. She misjudged that one.  “Okay. How about Thursday?”

 

“Send me a text for what time and the place to be at,” Ulquiorra replied.

 

“You got it.  I’ll let you go.”

 

***

 

The week dragged its ass, and by the time Thursday came around, Ulquiorra was a nervous wreck. Things had to go right on this date. If they didn’t then, he could probably kiss his chances with Orihime goodbye. He preened for this date, getting his hair trimmed. He took a shower and even groomed himself. He’d been letting the manscaping go since he and Orihime broke up.

 

She had texted him an address and a time, but he left his house early to walk around the neighborhood where the cinema was located. As the time neared, he waited outside of the place for Orihime to show up.

 

Orihime had been busier than she anticipated on Thursday.  She had agreed to an interview by a fashion student about her new collection; word had gotten out that she had designed the dress she had worn to C. Murcielago’s art show.

 

As a result, she was short for time when it was time to get ready for her date.  It was a slightly cool day, so she showered and dressed in a jean skirt and a cropped long-sleeved graphic tee.  She was dressed much, _much_ more casually than she usually did.  Still put together, still in style, but not her usual all-in fashion choices.  She pulled part of her hair back into a half-ponytail and wore minimal makeup. She put on a pair of old-school chucks at the door.  She definitely looked younger than her now-twenty-three years.

 

She walked to where she had texted Ulquiorra to meet her just in time.  Seeing him leaning against the building, she snuck up on him the best she could and surprised him with a wave and a “Hel-looooo!”

 

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow at the woman and her attempt at stealth. He glanced at her outfit and her appearance. He couldn’t help think of that time in the stairwell. She was dressed almost exactly the same. He shook his head. It wouldn’t be good to get himself riled up. “Hey, you decide which movie we’re going to see?”

 

“You can choose between two.  Action/Adventure or Romantic Comedy?”

 

“I’ll go with the rom-com. Ladies like those don’t they?” Ulquiorra replied with a smile.

 

She gave him a snide laugh.  “Only if they are good, and then everyone actually likes them.  So be it, though. Rom-com it is. Let’s go,” she said, leading the way, sparing a glance over her shoulder to smile at him.

 

Ugh, just her smile was making his resolve shake. What was she thinking to wear that? She had to have known an outfit like that would bring back memories. Didn’t she own jeans or some kind of pants? Oh well. He’d had to endure it. He would sit a seat away from her. Ulquiorra followed her and paid for the tickets because he was a gentleman. He also knew most of Orihime's money had gone to her collection.

 

“Thanks,” she muttered as he paid.  Her financial situation was worse than she let on.  She had a bit of pocket money that Uryu gave her. He was really acting like a sugar daddy these days but with no strings attached.  The situation had to change soon.

 

Her face looked slightly stormy as she mulled over these unpleasant thoughts. “Do you want any snacks?  My treat in return for the tickets?” she offered cheerfully after a minute.

 

“I’m treating my lady to a date. You don’t pay for anything,” Ulquiorra said as he put an arm around her waist, pulling Orihime close. “Just in case any cameras are around.”

 

She laughed at his antics.  “Well, in that case, may as well give ‘em something to take a picture of,” she said into his ear as she reached her hand down into the back pocket of his jeans.

 

“I beg your pardon, miss.” Ulquiorra was teasing her as they stood in a small line for snacks. “If I knew you were going to get handsy I would have worn boxers. Easier access. I mean we can skip the movie.” He smirked at her.

 

“That would be a waste of money at this point,” she said.  “I am only doing this for the benefit of the press,” she said with a heavy dose of innocence.

 

He looked down at her with half-lidded eyes. Much more of this and he was going to check himself in a looney bin. Surely she knew she was driving him mad. Ulquiorra took her hand out of his pocket and threaded their fingers together. When the line moved, he walked ahead, pulling her after him.

 

She was really on cloud nine.  Holding his hand and going on a real date; only her second real date like, ever; she was transported back to the ideals of her younger self.  The self who had never seen war, the self who had never loved and lost someone not related to her by blood. She felt a surge of optimism, and every time he glanced at her, she couldn’t help but beam a smile back at him.

 

As they made their way into the darkened theater, she started having suspicions that Ulquiorra was not quite sharing the same experience that she was.

 

He was just trying to behave and be polite. He didn’t think that Orihime would like it if they were caught on camera doing stuff. He wouldn’t care if they were caught he had to think of her. Ulquiorra shook his head as they sat down in the very last row of seats. He still had flashes of that fuckboy mentality. As soon as she sat down next to him, he moved over a seat.

 

She saw what he was doing and hissed before thinking, “What the hell?  Do I stink or something’?”

 

Ulquiorra turned his head and looked at her. “No, you smell nice. I’m trying to be a good boy.” He leaned over the empty seat and quickly kissed her. The touch felt like fire. “If I sit next to you…” He didn’t want to finish that statement. He felt like a creep just for thinking it.

 

She felt the charge in his kiss and understood what he was trying to say.  She sighed in defeat. “Alright, but just this once. I don’t want the wrong kind of rumors to spread either, you know,” she whispered as the previews started.

 

He felt even more like crap hearing her words, and with a sigh, he moved back into the seat next to her. Ulquiorra even gave her a side-eyed glance. “You’re right.”

 

She felt kind of guilty for forcing him to bend to her will, but she knew she was right.  If they were being watched, sitting apart would be more interesting than anything else. “Sorry,”  she whispered. “I promise not to bother you during the movie,” she said, burrowing down into her seat, both to get comfortable and to conserve body heat in the chilly theater.

 

Ulquiorra took off the hoodie he was wearing and handed it to her. He had on a long sleeved shirt underneath. The cold didn’t really bother him. “I’m not making the same promise,” he murmured, still looking at her from the corners of his eyes.

 

“I should hope not,” she said under her breath as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the hoodie and tucked the neck under her chin, using it as a sleeved blanket.  The movie started, and she focused on the screen.

 

At first, his hand rested on the armrest between them then it casually dropped to her thigh. Ulquiorra’s eyes never left Orihime’s face as the movie started playing. He turned his head towards her, letting his nose nuzzle her ear for a moment before pulling away. He was going to see how far she would let him go.

 

Her jaw clenched, but she made no other indication that she recognized what he was doing as his hand was laid on her leg.  When his nose found her ear though, she recoiled a couple of millimeters, then returned to her place of origin. “Not going to bother you, I said,” she whispered through pursed lips.

 

“I’m gonna bother you though,” he said to her. Ulquiorra let his hand inch higher up her leg and leaned closer to her again. “How much is it going to take for you to snap?”

 

“Not much!” she hissed, crossing her legs in the direction away from him.

 

With a smirk, Ulquiorra turned his head towards the screen. It was about time she got to experience what he felt every time he saw her whether it be in a picture or face to face and talked to her. “Okay.”

 

Ooh, he was evil.  If that’s how he wanted to play, fine.  Two could play at this game. She started innocently; kicking the foot that was crossed over her leg slowly.  Just getting his attention from time to time. After a bit, she stretched and crossed her legs the opposite direction so that they were facing him, and after another minute the foot kicking thing started again, this time brushing against the fabric of his pants.  No actual body to body contact, just the suggestion of it.

 

He was still watching her. He saw how her shirt rode up just enough to give him a glimpse of her stomach. Ulquiorra had to cross his arms across his chest to keep from dragging her out of her seat and into his. Then her foot would glance off his jeans. It was enough contact to make him want to shift seats again. After five minutes of this behavior, Ulquiorra let his hand drop to one of her knees, fingers making circles lightly on the area.

 

Orihime wasn’t usually ticklish, but she was pretty tense, and the circles he drew were causing her to twitch, and in a short amount of time, she was forced to cover her mouth with one hand  in an effort to muffle her laughter and was using her other hand to try to remove his hand from her knee.

 

He smirked as she squirmed in her seat but he let her remove his hand and returned all his limbs to his space. Ulquiorra knew that when they finally did come together, it was probably going to be better than the first time. He was expecting magic when it happened. He decided to focus on the movie; if she wanted to escalate things, it would be her choice.

 

***

 

When the movie ended, Orihime sniffled and wiped her eyes.  It had been a tear-jerking story, and with all the turmoil in her romantic life throughout the last several months, she was particularly vulnerable to the emotional manipulation being employed by the director.  She hugged Ulquiorra’s hoodie to her chest before looking over at him to hand it back.

 

“Keep it,” he said with a small smile. “I’ve got a painting of you to look at. You can have my hoodie, Woman.”

 

“Aww,” she said, clutching it to her as she stood up.  “Are you sure? It’s a really nice one. It doesn’t seem like Markus had anything to do with it,” she grinned down at him as he remained seated, then she twisted from side to side to loosen the muscles that had become stiff from sitting immobile for two hours and twenty minutes.  Her spine popped loudly, and she sighed in satisfaction.

 

“Do you want to get going or do you want to sit here all night?” she asked with an awkward grin.

 

Ulquiorra let out the breath; he’d taken in a long exhale. He didn’t want to leave her just yet. “Do you have something else planned or did you want me to walk you to the subway? Train station? Home?”

 

She looked around as if the interior of the theater might provide some inspiration. “I don’t know, but we could just go for a walk?  It’s a nice night,” she offered.

 

He nodded then stood and stretched his arms high above his head, giving her an eyeful of a strip of muscled skin when his shirt lifted above the waist of his jeans which as always were slung low on his hips. “A walk sounds great,” he replied.

 

“Okay, let’s go,” she said, leading the way out of the theater, “I just need to stop at the restroom,” she said on the way out. He nodded at waited in the lobby.

 

She went inside and checked out her face - she hadn’t messed it up too badly with her crying. She did a bit of a touch-up and used the facility and smoothed out her hair, and was just about to leave when she heard a voice from behind her.  “Inoue? Is that you?”

 

Orihime turned around.  “Yes, and you are?”

 

“Misaki Nakamura, of Weekly Bunkasai.  Can I ask you a few questions?”

 

“Actually, now’s not a good time,” Orihime said, making her way out of the restroom.

 

Ms. Nakamura was undeterred, following her out and to the lobby.  “It will really only take a minute of your time. Are the rumors true that you and--” she stopped her question short when the man in question presented himself over Orihime’s shoulder.

 

“Is this person bothering you Orihime?” Ulquiorra asked, glaring at the stranger.

 

Nakamura’s eyes grew wide with excitement.  “Oh! Mr. Murcielago! This is perfect,” she said, taking out her cell phone and pressing a button.  “What do you have to say to the rumors that you and Inoue are secretly married?”

 

The need to smack the device out of the woman’s hand was growing. He shook his head and scoffed. “Inoue and I are not married. We’re merely talking about the prospects of building a life together. I would _never_ secretly marry her. I would show my ring off if I were joined to this woman.”

 

Orihime bit her lips.  He had really done it now.  She didn’t mind, though. It was sweet.  He could tell as much or as little as he wanted.

 

Nakamura, on the other hand, was like a shark who had smelled blood.  “Is it true then that your tattoos, or at least some of them, are dedicated to her?  Inoue’s birthday is September 3rd, right? You have IX-III tattooed on you…”

 

Ulquiorra sighed. “My entire body is a dedication to her. Any other invasive questions you might have?”

 

“Have you severed ties with Markus?  How did you break up with Yui?” Nakamura had absolutely no shame.

 

“I never was dating Yui, we were merely friends, and yes, I have. Markus was often difficult to work with; I lowered my standards to allow him to manipulate me,” Ulquiorra stated, in a monotone voice. Inside his head, he was livid at this reporter. He grabbed Orihime’s hand. “Come, Woman.”

 

“It was nice meeting you!” Orihime called as she allowed Ulquiorra to lead her out of the building at a brisk pace.  She didn’t mean it. She just wanted to do a little damage control.

 

When they got outside, she didn’t let go of his hand.  “Do you want to take a walk through the park? Or just around here?”

 

He said nothing as he walked, putting distance between himself and that theater. The tension in his body was almost to a breaking point. He didn’t like nosy people. He didn’t like reporters who were like hawks, ready to snatch their prey from the ground. Finally, after a few blocks, Ulquiorra spoke. “I’m sorry if I assumed too much.”

 

“You didn’t.  I was happy to hear you say it.”

 

“Would you like me to escort you home?”

 

“Okay,” she answered.  He seemed to be disinterested in talking a walk for pleasure at this point.

 

They walked in the direction of her apartment, silent for a few moments. “I’m sorry. I’m frustrated. You know I don’t like when people pry. Not that it matters. I said harsh things and people will think what they want about what I said. If people think that we’re together--Nevermind. I’m talking out of anger. Friends,” Ulquiorra said.

 

“I don’t mind if people think we’re together.  I think we’re together,” she said as if it was only natural.

 

“That’s our end goal, is it not?” Ulquiorra asked. “I don’t want people to assume things about our relationship. I don’t know what Yui told other people. She could have told them that we were dating each other.”

 

“Would that be the worst thing?  I mean, we’re on a date.”

 

He shook his head. “I mean I don’t want them to assume that I “broke” up with Yui to be with you. That’s not what happened.”

 

“Ah, I see what you mean.  Unfortunately, you’re in the public eye.  It’s going to happen. Even if you weren’t, people are going to be curious about you, Ulquiorra.  You’re enigmatic. Your neighbors and friends will think you’re interesting. I think you’re interesting. I want to know everything about you.”

 

He raised an eyebrow and looked at the redhead. “You know me. I’m boring. I’m moody. I complain. I hate other people. I want them to leave me alone. I’m not interesting. I wasn’t even interesting as an Espada. I was the trusty watch dog for Aizen. Look where it got me.”

 

She looked at him sideways, appraising him.  “Hmmmm… Is that your assessment? Would you like to hear mine?”

 

A nod. “But you’re only going extoll how wonderful I am.”

 

She laughed.  “Oh boy. Hang on to your butt, Ulquiorra. This might be bumpy.  When I first met you, I thought I had a chance to defeat you.”

 

She waited for his inevitable ridicule.

 

He scoffed. “I gave the order to kill you. Yammy was supposed to do that, and he didn’t. I’m glad he decided to play around with you all and waste time.”

 

“Well I’m glad too, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.  Anyway, after we met again in the dangai, I thought you were what you later told me you were.  Empty. Just a hull without a soul. Nothing but a robotic puppet of Aizen’s. We all know that ended up not being true.”

 

“When we arrived in Las Noches, I began to notice it.  Your peculiarities. Things would frustrate you. You were curious.  Your thirst for understanding was insatiable. I admired it.”

 

How had she nailed him down? He had masked all of that, schooled by decades of practice. “I cannot deny any of that. How did you figure it out?”

 

“It was the little things.  The way you would tolerate my rambling instead of just backhanding me when I didn’t want to eat.  The way you tolerated me slapping you across the face. The way you would interrogate me about the heart. It spoke to me about your desire for truth and understanding about things you couldn’t see; things that it seemed you thought I could teach you.  That’s how I knew. You weren’t loyal to Aizen. You were your own being.”

 

“I was responsible for your well-being, harming you would have gone against my orders. Had I physically attacked you, I would have killed you. We’ve discussed the slap. I could tolerate it or have you break your hand or wrist.”

 

“Perhaps.  However, you didn’t have to take it all in stride.  You could have intimidated me. You could have threatened my friends or used more psychological pressure on me than you did.  Don’t get me wrong, I mean, you were a total bastard, and you tried really hard to break me; I know that. But you could have been a lot worse.  You could have been Nnoitra. You could have been worse than that. But the particular line of action you did take was what made the difference.  It was all aligned with what I said about your curiosity. It all served to satiate it.”

 

“I know about Aizen’s final order to you.  I know you disobeyed. I know you probably didn’t care that much about what happened to me ultimately, but I think you cared a lot about me dying before you were able to find your answers.   Do you think you found them?”

 

He shook his head. “How can you say I didn’t threaten your friends when I ended Kurosaki’s life twice? You should hate me. I was more than a bastard.” Ulquiorra took a deep breath to calm himself down. “When it was being discussed who should be your caretaker Nnoitra offered. He said he could bend you to Aizen’s will. He was disgusting. I would have never allowed it.”

 

“There is a reason why I did not tie you down and force food down your throat, Woman. It wouldn’t have stopped there. I would have satisfied my curiosity in the wrong way. I would have disobeyed Aizen’s order. When I finally did go against what he said it was because he wanted me to let that stupid fuck just take you away. How was I supposed to do that when I still had no answers?”

 

“You weren’t. I mean, if I think about things from your perspective, you couldn’t.  And about the threatening, I meant you didn’t threaten me in an “If you don’t do X I will kill Y” kind of way.  Yeah, you killed Kurosaki. I don’t know why you did it the first time. The second time… I can understand why. I didn’t at the time, but I do now.”

 

She sighed and stopped walking, looking at him.  “All this is second to the fact that you were the most powerful hollow, perhaps ever.  This in and of itself is fascinating. That you died in search of truth is poignant and somehow beautiful. The thought of it takes my breath away.”

 

“I died because I fell in love with a human. I died using the only strength I had left protecting you,” he said. It wasn’t a bitter statement. “I don’t regret what I did.”

 

“You really felt love then?”

 

“I don’t know what I felt. It was a strange emotion that I couldn’t place. I knew I didn’t want you to die. I knew I didn’t want to die without feeling your hand in mine. I did though,” Ulquiorra turned his head away from her. He didn’t know why he was getting choked up about this.

 

Orihime hustled a pace and a half in front of him and faced him, stood up straight, and reached out her hand toward him.  “Are you afraid of me?”

 

Ulquiorra stopped walking and looked at her; his eyes were red. “Do you want the truth?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I’ve always been afraid of you, Woman. I was afraid of what you represented. I was afraid that you wouldn’t reach out to me and give me your heart. I was afraid in that gallery months ago that you wouldn’t talk to me or that as soon as you saw that painting, you would leave. I was afraid you wouldn’t forgive me. I’m afraid of you because I feel too much for you.”

 

She smiled widely, closing the distance between them and taking his hand from his side, firmly planting it between both of hers.  “Do you see the common thread through all of those instances? Apart from what I represent, each of your fears have been proven unwarranted.  I did reach out to you. Although we never touched, I did give you a piece of my heart. I talked to you. I didn’t leave. I forgave you. I feel for you every bit of what you feel for me.”

 

Ulquiorra tilted his head back and looked at the night sky. He would not cry in front of her. He had an image to maintain in front of Orihime. He’d wait until he got home. Yet, a tear slipped out of his eye, which he scrubbed away with his free hand. “Why though?” he finally asked.

 

“The heart wants what it wants.  I can’t fight it. I don’t want to. That’s the cop-out answer, but it’s the barebones truth.  The next layer of truth and the one on top of that, and the hundred other reasons why I can tell you one by one.  How many do you want now?”

 

“I love you, Woman.” Ulquiorra pulled her closer and kissed her, just like he did at the restaurant. It was slow and sensual. When he pulled away from her, he struggled to catch his breath.

 

“I love you, Ulquiorra Cifer,” she whispered when he pulled away.  

 

“Let’s get you home.”


	18. Friends to Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EIV: AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW LET ME SAY THAT LOUDER FOR THOSE IN THE BACK  
> EIV: AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW my little dark heart is happy  
> JKR: YAY!  
> EIV: damn fluff. :|

Ulquiorra dropped Orihime off at her door later, refusing her offer to come in, kissing her at the door and going home. Orihime was only slightly disappointed; with as busy as she and Uryu had been lately there was not a lot of housekeeping or shopping being done, and it would have been a dusty welcome with nothing but tap water to drink.

She had a hard time falling asleep that night.   She kept thinking about the kiss they shared during their walk and his concerns about her feelings.  She hoped she had cleared things up for him, but she knew he had a tendency to fall into self-doubt at times.  Still, thinking of the feelings brought about by that kiss and the one at the shabu shabu place after his gallery thing made her ponder.  Obviously, their relationship had stronger foundations now than it had when they were starting out last spring, but the impact that foundation had on their connection seemed almost too strong.  It was overwhelming. Before when they would kiss, she would inevitably think of sex. Now that was still there but more in the background. Now when they kissed it felt like there was a lot more on the line.

He got home quicker than expected. Probably because he ran part of the way, not bothering with taking the subway. It was only six kilometers or so that separated their homes. It was just a distance. They felt closer than ever though. It frustrated him to no end. Ulquiorra wanted to touch her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her, and her decree of being just friends put a limit on that.

Once he got inside of his apartment, making sure his door was secure, Ulquiorra walked over to his computer. He tapped one of the keys on the keyboard which brought the machine to life. Then he sat down in front of it. He knew from doing random searches that trying to search for hearts and love, and emotions all brought up ideas about the subjects. There were millions of results to choose from.  
  
He typed her name into the search engine, then clicked on the image tab, seeing if there was anything new. Ulquiorra had a folder on his computer that was filled with pictures of her. Perhaps he was obsessed with her. Was obsession the same as love?  
  
He then thought back to the newest tattoo he’d gotten done. Ulquiorra didn’t tell her that he had it done. Commissioning the manga artist, he showed the woman a picture of Orihime and asked her if she could draw something for him… Days later, he had an almost perfect cartoonish sketch of her wearing the Arrancar uniform.

He was stupid. He was head over heels in love with her. He had been in love with her for a long time.

If he ever got the chance to show her, she’d probably freak out and run. What kind of person got the object of their affection tattooed on them? If he ever modeled again and people saw it, the gossipers would be rabid about it. Ulquiorra should have told her about it before this date. He should have asked for her permission before getting it. He did it because he wanted to look at her. He wanted to see her, and the painting he did wasn’t enough. He did it out of love for her. He didn’t expect anything in return. He wanted her company, time, and attention. He liked it.

With a sigh, he decided to show her… Once he was in his bedroom, Ulquiorra used his phone to make a video call. He stood in front of that mirror, shirtless holding the phone in front of his face.

Orihime was still awake, trying in vain to fall asleep when her phone rang.  She saw that it was a video conference and turned it on although the room was dark.  “Hello?” she answered in an alert voice. She hadn’t been sleepy at all. She fumbled to turn on her bedside lamp and looked into the screen, smiling when she saw him.

“Hey,” he said to her, tilting his head to the side so that she could see one eye and part of his mouth which smiled. Ulquiorra was looking at his screen. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was trying to sleep, but it wasn’t happening.  I couldn’t stop thinking.”

“I just got back here,” Ulquiorra said. He sighed and decided to push on with this. “You know how I always get a tattoo after my paintings sell?”  

“Mmhmm,” she said, her eyes crinkling.

Ulquiorra reached over and turned on the lamp that sat on his dresser, illuminating the room and his body more. “I got a new one the day of your birthday. That’s one of the reasons why I didn’t go to the celebration.”

“Oh?  How many does that make, then?” she asked, rolling over onto her back.

“Twenty-five I think,” Ulquiorra answered. “I wanted to show you the new one, but, it required me to take clothes off. I need to know something before I show you.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked gently, the implication being he would not be refused.

The dark-haired man sighed. “You know every tattoo I have is somehow tied to you, right? What would you think if I got you...a picture of you tattooed on me?”

She smiled a slightly twisted smile, showing a bit of embarrassment, before admitting, “I would be flattered, I think.  As long as it didn’t make me look like a gremlin or something,” she chuckled.

He used his thumb to flip the camera, so it faced him. “I figured I let you ogle me enough,” he stated, holding the phone away from him. He held his right arm up and turned it so that she could see the underside of it. It was next to the owl and cat tattoo. The image showed a cartoonish version of Orihime standing against a dark background wearing the Arrancar uniform.

Orihime was stunned.  It was a good, although unrealistic, likeness of her, very much evocative of Las Noches and how she looked there.  It was lovely. It was her. It was  _permanent._  “Ulquiorra, I don’t know what to say.  It’s beautiful.”

“I know we just talked about stuff,” he said as he walked over to his bed. “I got it because I want to look at you all the time. I want to remember back to that time I first met you. Some of the details are getting hazy. This was the best way I could think of to keep it fresh.”

She smiled at him.  Did he have any idea how sweet he was?  How adorable? How much she wanted to wrap him up between her limbs and just let him live there?  She inhaled sharply and sighed, “I love it. I love you. You know I can set you up with some pictures of me from high school if you’re into that kind of thing.”

She giggled for a second and waited for a response.

He threw his phone onto the bed before flopping down onto the soft surface and retrieved the device. “Uh, nah. I mean if I could talk you into wearing a school uniform in the future, maybe I’d be interested in some pics,” he said with a chuckle. “Seriously though, you don’t think I’m a creep?”

“No, I think you are sweet.”  She was serious, but still smiling.

“Want a look at the other tattoos?”

She rolled over onto her stomach and propped her phone up against her pillow. “Since we’re already here, may as well, right?  I’ve been anxious to see them.”

The first tattoo he showed her was the easiest. On the underside of his left wrist was what she said to activate whatever powers she had. It had the kanji characters for ‘I reject’.

“...I reject…” she read aloud, then looked at the camera in case he could see her.  “Is there any significance to the placement?”

Ulquiorra shook his head. “Nope, just was somewhere that wouldn’t be obvious. I mean I can just turn my arm and look at it any time I want. Other people won’t know it’s there.”

She nodded.  “Ok, how many new ones do you have besides those two?”

“Two more. The bird and the thing on my thigh.” Ulquiorra moved the phone down and showed her the bird trapped in the ribcage hat was placed above the cherry blossom. It didn’t have any color to it; it was just done in black and grays. After a few seconds, he brought the phone back up to his face. “Wanna see the last one now?”

“Sure!”

The phone dropped to the bed, and Ulquiorra disappeared. He stood up on the bed, out of sight of the camera and took off his jeans and his underwear. He then grabbed the phone, making sure to keep the thing aimed at the ceiling then walked back over to the mirror. With some care, he covered his dick with his free hand. Bringing the phone up, he flipped the camera again, so his reflection showed in the mirror.

Orihime gasped.  It looked so much prettier under this light than it had in the pictures from Markus’ campaign.  “I thought it was flames… it’s so much more dynamic and fluid than the pictures from the ad conveyed… It’s really very lovely.  What’s it supposed to be?”

“Take a guess,” he said as he turned around showing her how it wrapped around his upper thigh, hip and half of his left ass cheek. “It’s not flames, Woman.”

“Um, is it spirit energy?”

Ulquiorra flipped the camera around and gave her a deadpanned look. “Orihime. What could possibly be this color that pertains to you?”

“It’s my hair?”  she had thought it a possibility but thought it was too vain a thought to take seriously.

“Yes. My tattoo artist looked at me like I was insane when I told him what I wanted but it got done.”

“You might be crazy,” she said, studying his expression and smiling, hoping to get him to smile too.

He bit his lip as he walked back over to his bed, laying down carefully this time. He didn’t want to give her any unexpected flashes. “I’m crazy about you,” he said, with a small smile.

His smile may have been small, but it was a victory for her.  “I don’t mind,” she said. “Ulquiorra, I think…” she paused, thinking it over again.

“You think what? Are you thinking about us? I had an idea,” he replied.

“I was.  What’s your idea?”

“I’m going to give you your key back. When you want us to be together, use it.”

“Can you give it to me now?” she asked in a small voice, partially muffling it in her blanket.

Ulquiorra sat up with a stunned expression on his face. Was she saying? What? “Orihime, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying I love you.  I’m saying I don’t want to be just friends anymore.  I’m saying I want to be with you again.”

“I’m coming back over… Tonight.”

Her heart started racing.  “I’ll wait up,” she replied breathlessly, her mind also racing; thinking about packing a bag or her life, she didn’t care, she just wanted to see him.

 

***

 

By the time he ran the kilometers that separated them, Ulquiorra’s chest was heaving. He was sweating. It took him a good five minutes to catch his breath. He knocked on Orihime’s apartment door thirty-five minutes later. That’s how long it took from him hanging up the call, getting redressed and running over there.

Orihime opened the door and stood before him in leggings and a t-shirt, her hair up in a messy ponytail.  She dropped the bag in her hand and ran across the genkan, pulling him in by the collar.

Ulquiorra grabbed her by the waist, he didn’t even bother to take his shoes off. Not that he gave a fuck. He was too preoccupied with what he currently had in his arms. She looked beautiful and relaxed. “Going somewhere,” he asked, with a smirk before kissing the tip of her nose.

She sighed happily and answered, “I was thinking of going to my boyfriend’s place but I think I’ll just invite him to stay here tonight,” she giggled and stepped backwards toward the living room, pulling him with.

“Stop. Shoes?” he questioned and pointed to his feet. Ulquiorra looked at her. “Or do you not want the Quincy to know I’m here?”

“He stopped coming home weeks ago and on the off chance he does, we’re better off giving him a warning anyway.  Shoes off!” She commanded.

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes and toed off his shoes, throwing them by the door, which they hit with a loud thump. “Now, important matters, before we get down to this,” he stated. He reached into the pocket of the sweatpants he wore and pulled out the other key to his apartment, holding it out to her. “You want this back or nah?” A smirk played on his lips.

She reached for it, “Gimme!” She said, matching his playfulness,

He handed it over to her, slipping the piece of metal into her fingers. “Second order of business. I didn’t bring _anything_ with me.” Ulquiorra gave her a leveled look, hoping she catch his meaning.

“Oh, I’m sure you could borrow whatever you need from Uryu…”

“So, your roommate is okay with you borrowing condoms? Do I have to use them?”

“Well, that depends.  Have you slept with anyone since me?”

Ulquiorra looked at her then shook his head. “No one. I’ve become really acquainted with myself.”

She smirked at him. “Then you don’t need to borrow them.  I’m still on birth control.”

The green-eyed man nodded. “Okay, then. Lead the way, Princess.”

Orihime felt a bit shy suddenly and just nodded, making her way to her room with her head down.  She opened the door and stood inside, waiting for him to enter before shutting the door behind him.

He had never been inside Orihime’s apartment much less her bedroom. He’d seen it in pictures but this was the first time he’d ever stepped foot inside. Looking around, Ulquiorra took everything in. After he was done with his observation, he turned and grinned at the redhead.

“What?” she asked, self-conscious.  Her room _was_ a bit untidy, but she had just been packing.  It wasn’t that bad. And yeah, her place wasn’t the huge loft Ulquiorra had, but it was a nice place and the rooms were a nice size.  Was it her bed? It was only full-sized compared to his king…

“Not a damn thing, Orihime. You’re perfect. I’m just… emotions.” The grin on his face faltered for a moment. Ulquiorra took a couple steps towards her and pulled her close to him. Then he turned and pinned her to the door. He leaned down, putting his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. They hadn’t been this close to each other in weeks… no months. Just for a moment, it was slightly overwhelming for him.

Her arms came around his body and she held him close, her nose falling right above his hollow tattoo.  She could smell his soap that she loved so much mixed with his body heat and salt from his run over. His skin was still damp.  She pressed her face into his chest and breathed him in, then kissed the tattoo. “My hollow, my human,” she murmured, not meaning for it to reach his ears.

He pulled back and looked down at her. “Not a hollow. Your Espada,” Ulquiorra replied. He took a half step back from her, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the floor. “My princess. My queen. My human.”

She looked at his body again.  She had missed it, despite seeing it in photographs.  It was different in real life. For a nanosecond the impulse to cause bodily harm to Yui crossed her mind.  This was _hers._ She reached out and spread the fingertips from both hands over his torso, fanning them out until her palms were flat on his skin, then moved them up toward his chest, watching as she did.

Ulquiorra’s breath hitched when she touched him. He stared at her entranced by her reactions and the feeling of her hands sliding up his body. He had missed this. He hadn’t felt her hands on him for over three months. “I’m going to let you control this. You get to say how far...”

Her eyes raised to his and she stepped forward, pressing her body into his.  “This goes until the end. Until there is no more breath in this body.” She sounded like she didn’t really plan on saying that, and she hadn’t.  But she meant it anyway. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

He returned the kiss hungrily, his hands trying to bring her even closer to him if it was possible. It wasn’t but he was going to try. His mouth strayed from her lips, going down her chin to her neck and then back up again. This time when their mouths met, Ulquiorra’s tongue snaked out licking at her lips.

Her tongue came out to meet his and she covered his mouth with her lips, allowing their tongues to writhe together in the space between them.  She breathed in sharp hitches through her nostrils as she used one hand to hold onto the back of his neck while the other went under his arm to carve a trail from the base of his skull to the dip of his lower back.

Ulquiorra had not been expecting that. He arched his spine pushing his body into hers. He moaned at the aggressive touch. It felt good… Really good. He moved his hands down her body and underneath the shirt she was wearing, inching it up over her torso, feeling everywhere he could. He made sure that he touched every piece of flesh he uncovered.

Orihime’s skin heated at his touch, and she soon felt too warm.  Breaking their kiss and stepping back, she reached for his hands and directed them to pull her shirt over her head, then fell back into his embrace and picked up where she had left off, kissing him deeply.  She shuddered at the feel of his skin against her belly, feeling her insides squirm at the contact. A soft moan escaped her nose and she rolled her ribcage into him in a few slow waves, enjoying the soft warmth it produced.  Her hands came around his hips and her fingers dipped into the waistband of his sweatpants and began to pull.

His fingers were busy groping her tits when he felt his sweatpants start going down. Ulquiorra abandoned his task and grabbed her wrist, gazing at her. He slowly kissed her then picked her up like she was a bride and threw her onto her bed, like he was some kind of caveman. He was on the bed in an instant, nestled between her legs. This time his mouth trailed kisses down her chest, he was done fooling around.

She was breathless after landing on the bed and his resumption of command of the activities.  “I love you,” she breathed, her hands feeling useless as they chased his shoulders, eventually finding purchase just above his elbows and holding on.

Just like the first time he did this, he turned his head and laid it on her chest, right where her heart would be, listening to the racing beats. Ulquiorra had a content smile on his face and he was blushing slightly. “I love you too,” he murmured. “I love you.”

She was overcome with a sense of affection and peace, and brought her hands up to rest on the back of his neck and the back of his head, lightly holding him in place.  “Do you hear that?” she asked with a smile on her lips.

“It’s your heart.” His green eyes were looking up at her, studying her face.

“No, it’s yours,” she said with a small smile, looking down at him.  “You get to keep it.”

The blush extended all the way up to his ears. “I will keep it. I’m going to lock it up in a box and carry it with me wherever I go.” Ulquiorra untangled himself from her hands and sat up on his knees. He pushed the sweats he was wearing down. Soon Ulquiorra was naked and laying beside his lover. He was holding her.

Orihime felt no need to rush.  She turned into him and traced the lines of the hard muscles that crossed and supported his ribs, admiring the strength they held, even as just a human.  She followed them down to the place where his pale skin was covered in black hair, stopping at each tattoo along the way, and let her fingers sink into it, the tips of her fingers grazing the base of his cock lazily, then trailing the hand back up to his jaw and kissing him on the mouth again.  Her kisses moved from his mouth, to his cheek, to his earlobe, to the space beneath it, where she paused and whispered, “Is there anything you want? Any requests?”

Oh god. His brain felt like it was melting when she asked that. He gave her a side-eyed glance. “What do you have in mind?” he managed to ask without sounding desperate for something. That teasing caress she had done to him was almost too much. “There’s a lot of stuff I want to do to you.”

He wasn’t fooling anyone.  She knew she was at the advantage at the moment, if she was keeping score, anyway.  She still was half-dressed, for starters, in her bra and leggings. “Well, I was just going to go wherever the wind took me,” she said in a breathy way, blowing over his ear and then giggling.  She was a little embarrassed, probably, after not being intimate with him for so many months. She was dealing with it by being silly. She didn’t want to be silly though. She propped herself up on one elbow, holding her head up on her palm as she lay on her side, and looked at him, searching his face.  

“What do you want to do to me?”

The word everything came to mind but even then, it wasn’t enough to describe what he wanted to do to her. Ulquiorra brushed a strand of hair out of her face and smiled. “When I was on my way over here I imagined that as soon as I got inside we would be fucking everywhere. We’d end up in this bed. Now I just want to hold you. I want to kiss you. I want to taste you and give you pleasure. I want to make love to you.”

Orihime blushed at his words and her eyes softened before she kissed his forehead, then his nose, then his lips, his chin, and the curve of each jaw, before laying her head on his chest to hear his heartbeat.  She wrapped her arms around him as she did, content to just lay there. “I’m agreeable to your proposal,” she finally said after several minutes.

“What do you want to do to me?” he asked.

“I want to hold you like this.  I want to smell nothing but you.  I want to memorize the taste of your skin. I want to hear you whisper my name, and call out the names you have given to me.  I want to feel your hands in mine, and on my waist, and on my breasts, as I look down into your eyes with you inside of me. I want to bite this pillow as you kneel behind me.  I want to hold you close with my arms and legs as you move above me. I want to worship you…” she trailed off as her eyes closed, getting lost in her imagination.

Ulquiorra pushed the woman onto her back; he sat up. “You can do all of that to me but we need to get rid of this clothing. I can’t do anything to you when you’re hiding that lucious body from me, Woman.” With that statement, Ulquiorra grabbed the waistband of her leggings and pulled them off her body in one smooth stroke.

She smiled at him, then reached around to unhook her bra, taking the straps off one at a time and then pausing before moving it away.  Even after what she had just said, she felt a little self-conscious, looking down and blushing.

“Hime, what’s wrong?” Ulquiorra noticed the slight change in her. He decided to use a nickname that he very rarely used for her. He brought his hand to her face. “You’re beautiful to me. We don’t have to--We can take it slow. It’ll be just like the first time.”

She brought her eyes to his slowly and nodded. “I don’t know what came over me, I just… I just suddenly felt kind of embarrassed?”  She wasn’t sure that was the right word to describe how she felt but it would have to do. “Nothing is wrong, though. I guess… it’s just been a _long time._ ” She laughed a little to dispel the seriousness, then let her hands fall, her bra with it.

Oh. Ulquiorra understood what she was saying. She hadn’t slept with anyone in their time apart either. It certainly had been a while, for both of them. He knew he would take it slow. This would be like the first time but better. He’d handle her gently. With graceful movements, he wedged his naked body between her legs, glad that she still had one piece of clothing on. If she wanted this she would have to be the one to remove them. It would be all over once she was totally naked.  
  
He braced himself on his arms, leaning down to kiss her, letting their mouths mesh together.

She reached around his neck, pulling him into the kiss, and just let it linger.  They kissed like that for several moments, until she opened her mouth and invited his tongue to join hers.  This kiss was more passionate and active, both of the bobbing their heads back and forth, meeting and separating  in unison, breathing each other’s breath. As this kiss continued, the rest of Orihime’s body began to respond. Her nipples hardened against his chest as the friction between their skin sent pulses of sensation between her legs.  She was soon mewling and whimpering from just this kiss and the collateral contact alone.

Breaking the touch, Ulquiorra, let his mouth place small suckling kisses down her neck, reaching her chest. He let the tip of his tongue draw lazy swirls on her skin, making his way towards her nipples. One long swipe of his tongue across one pink bud made the skin raise more. His green eyes found her face as he let his fingers pinch the flesh slightly.

She uttered a soft “uh” at his touch and arched her back toward him, her eyes closing and opening without much thought, her cheeks and chest rosy with arousal.  She allowed him to play with her chest a while longer before she she began to miss him, pulling at his shoulders to bring his face up to hers and his center back in contact with hers.

He chuckled and bit his lip, giving her a sly smirk. “What? Something feeling left out?” he murmured. Ulquiorra let his lips hover above hers and everytime she went for a kiss he pulled away from her slightly.

She whined.  “I want to kiss you!” she complained, chasing his lips.

“Then kiss me, I’m not stopping you.”

She grumbled and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him to her so he couldn’t get away without exerting some effort.  She smiled when their lips finally made contact, humming in satisfaction. She kissed him and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, letting her tongue lap at the surface, then slowly releasing it and humming her approval.  “I love how you taste,” she commented before going for it again.

“You know, I kind of want to kiss you somewhere else,” Ulquiorra whispered to her. He didn’t wait for a reply, before he crushed his mouth against hers. He was starting to feel that same gnawing need when it came to her and her body. He told himself that he was going to take this slow. This wasn’t going to be a quick fuck. He wanted to drag this out for hours.

“You can kiss me wherever you want, Espada.  My body exists for your purposes, remember?” she teased, pushing him off of her and onto his back.  “But I want to kiss you first.” Her lips started on his, then to his princess tattoo, his hollow tattoo, heart tattoo, and each of the other ones dotted across his body.  When she reached the ones dedicated to her on his pubic area, she didn’t hesitate, placing lazy, sucking kisses on each, chuckling to herself when his cock twitched between her breasts as she did.  She finished by latching onto his hipbone where the tattoo of her hair swirled wildly. As she did, she brought one hand to rest on him, testing his state of arousal.

A long groan left him every time Orihime touched him. His hips twitched and he tried to move them to create friction--anything that would help build up and break the tension thrumming through his body. As Orihime’s mouth got closer and closer to his cock, Ulquiorra couldn’t watch. He felt the kisses she placed on the tattoos inked along his hips. He finally opened his eyes when he felt her hand wraparound that hard length. “Woman,” he moaned, bucking his hips slightly.

“What’s the matter, love?” she asked gently, as if she was completely innocent.  She kept her hand wrapped around him as she moved her body up against his to place a kiss on his neck.  “Something bothering you?”

“Hnnngh. Orihime,” he growled in a seductive manner. He could barely think at this moment and she wanted to know what was bothering him. He had no blood left in his brain for it to function properly. She looked happy as she tortured him in this manner. He squirmed and flexed the muscles in his thighs and abdomen. “Please, Woman. I am yours.”

“Hmmm, say that again,” she demanded with a smile.

Her hand gently slid up his dick from the base to the tip with a fleeting touch and he about lost it. He growled again. “Woman. Orihime. Baby. Lover. I am yours,” Ulquiorra gasped.

“Good,” she said, scooting away and standing from the bed, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulling them down.  When she stood back upright she paused, giving him a clear view of a tiny new decoration just to the right of her pubic area. A small 4 that matched his own, no bigger than a 100 yen piece.

Ulquiorra’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Orihime with wide eyes. A hand came up and traced that numeral on his chest. “When? Why?” he asked, sitting up. He held his arms out towards her. He wanted to explore this new thing she’d placed on her body.

She placed her hands in his and let him direct her toward him.  “About two weeks after we broke up. I knew I’d never forget you or be able to replace you, so I thought I may as well make it permanent.”

Once she was settled in his lap, Ulquiorra traced the dark number with the tip of his finger, letting his nail trace the outer edge. “You did this--Woman… My rank.” His mind was clearly racing because he would not form complete sentences and could barely speak words. “I want you. _Now._ ”

“I’m yours.  I always have been.  You only have to take me.”

Using one arm, he lifted her slightly so that he could line himself up with her body. The air in his lungs left him as he felt the sensitive head of his cock brush against wet skin. Ulquiorra looked at Orihime then kissed her slowly, locking their lips together, bringing both hands to her hips, a thumb sliding over that tattooed number. He began to press into her.

Orihime gripped his shoulders and sucked in a long breath through her teeth as she sheathed him.  The pressure was intense but desperately desired. She choked on a breath as her bottom neared his legs, then as it rested on him, she sighed, the feeling of wholeness filling her entire body.  Her eyes closed and her lips searched for his blindly.

His breathing was ragged once he was all the way in her. This was way different than the first time. Ulquiorra swallowed, letting them adjust to each other again. He could see Orihime’s face and he guided her to him, kissing her, letting his lips brush over hers.

She pulled back after a moment and whispered, “I love you so much, Ulquiorra.”  Then she took a deep breath and slowly raised her hips a few inches before sinking them back down.  She watched his face as she did, her own eyes darkening and her mouth hanging slightly slack, focusing on the sensation of their connected bodies.

His eyelids fluttered shut before he closed his eyes completely. Bliss rocketed over his nerves, sending tingles of pleasure through his limbs. Ulquiorra had been dreaming about this moment for weeks. His dream was a paltry imitation of the real thing. He let himself lay back on the bed, still holding onto her hips. Once he was comfortable that he wasn’t going to end this activity prematurely, he opened his eyes and looked at her. His reptilian pupils were wide open as he found Orihime’s gaze. “Show me how much you love me.”

She reached for his hands, threading their fingers together, and used his palms for leverage as she began to move over him, sighs escaping her lips with each roll of her hips.  The way he watched her gave her encouragement, and as soon as she found a comfortable angle she began to increase her speed. It wasn’t wild, but it was enough exertion that after several minutes her breathing was rough and a trickle of sweat rolled down her forehead.

He moaned, “Orihime.” It wasn’t loud but it was enough to get her attention. He bit his lip and Ulquiorra started moving with her, bending his legs at the knees and bracing his feet against the bed. When she raised up, he shifted his hips enough that he could feel her core trying to pull him back in. When she came down, he thrust into her. The way her hips moved on his lap sent wave after wave of endorphins rushing through his muscles. It was heady. It was intoxicating. He wanted more. “Fuck me, Woman. Make love to me.”

“Yes,” she hissed her agreement, gripping his hands more tightly and increasing her efforts.  Her body squeezed not only him but her own insides; her thighs and buttocks working together to intensify the experience.  “I love you. I am yours. I will make you call my name, Espada,” she murmured these words to urge herself on and bolster her strength as she began to feel her inner thighs tremble with fatigue.  She was not giving up yet.

Weeks and months of sexual tension and build up had led to this moment; Orihime bouncing and grinding against his hips. Her body yielding to his. He loved her so much that it was impossible to put into words. His brain was flooded with warmth and affection for this goddess. “Orihime.” He said it was a warning. Ulquiorra could feel himself on the brink of an orgasm that felt like it was going to rip his entire world apart.

She took his warning was a challenge. Careful not to alter any of the movements from their current pattern, so as not to derail his imminent climax, she focused on his eyes, panting and sweating as she rode him toward completion.

Her body was like a vice, gripping him and that’s all Ulquiorra could think about. Didn’t she know what she was doing? Didn’t she know where this was going to lead? They way she eyed him made it seem like she wanted it. “Orihime. Please,” he begged. It wouldn’t take much more movement before he was at the end of the line.

At his words, she released his left hand and brought her fingers to where her body joined his, pressing where she knew she would find near-immediate release.  Her core grasped him and reverberated around him as she came, her pants turning into quiet sobs. She didn’t stop moving even as her orgasm rocked through her body.  “Surrender,” she pleaded, her body on the edge of collapse.

His green eyes had followed her hand and that’s about all it took. Along with the orgasmic spasms his girlfriend was experiencing, Ulquiorra could no longer hold back. He put his free hand over his mouth to stifle the scream that almost broke through as he felt himself come inside of Orihime’s body. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he used both hands to still her movements. “Shhhh,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest.

She crumpled in a pile of slack woman onto his chest, puffing out her breaths and lazily pushing sweaty strands of hair out of her eyes.  They were still connected, although she could feel him slowly starting to soften and separate from her. It made her emotional, and she began to cry softly.

“Shhh, don’t cry, lover.” Ulquiorra stroked her back as he felt her tears land on his chest. “Woman, what is wrong?”

She sniffled.  “It’s nothing. It’s stupid,” she said in a thick voice, pressing the palm of her hand into her eyes to make them stop.  It was not effective. She laughed at herself mirthlessly, “I’m so stupid.”

Ulquiorra sighed, and lifted her face so that he could look at her. “You are not stupid. Tell me. Is it because of what we just shared?”

She pouted and nodded.  “I’m just sad that it’s over already,” she admitted, bursting into tears again and burying her face into his chest.

“Woman, we have all night. All day tomorrow. The rest of our lives to pleasure each other,” he said to her. Ulquiorra lifted his head and kissed her hair. “It’s not stupid. You’re affected by your hormones. They’re saying that this emotion is valid.”

She nodded into his chest as her breathing began to slowly calm down.  As he completely left her, she climbed further up his body to hide her face in his neck, nuzzling her nose against his jugular, smelling his scent, starving for more of his essence.  She could not be satiated.

Ulquiorra gave a half smile and cuddled her closer. The warmth of her body combined with the orgasm that ha ripped through him made him exhausted. He opened his mouth to say something to her but yawned instead. “I think we need a couple hours of sleep before another round. Is this agreeable?”

She nodded, her eyes already closed.


	19. And Now For The Bad News

They may have had intentions to continue their love-making through the night, but they slept until morning. They might have slept until afternoon on this particular day if they weren’t woken by an insistent, “Ahem!”  There was a pause, and then Orihime’s bed was kicked and jostled. A man’s voice muttered, “What the hell, come on...AHEM”

 

Orihime rolled over, completely exposed from the waist up.  The man could be heard sighing, walking, and then a snap. Orihime’s eyes flew open.  Uryu had just flicked her across the tit.

 

Orihime sat up abruptly covering herself with her arms.  “What the fuck, Quin!” she whined in a sharp voice, rousing Ulquiorra.

 

Green reptilian eyes opened, and in the brightness of the room, Ulquiorra's pupils became tiny slits. He wasn't at home. He turned his head and saw red hair and then he saw the Quincy. Oh right. He and Orihime fucked themselves into exhaustion. It didn’t help he’d ran about twelve kilometers either. Sitting up, Ulquiorra glared at the male and quickly gathered Orihime into his arms after seeing her almost naked in front of the Quincy. “What is the meaning of this? I thought you were gay,” Ulquiorra stated.

 

“I am gay,” Uryu replied as if it obvious and Ulquiorra was stupid to ask.

 

“Why would enter her room and stare at her?” Ulquiorra had grabbed the sheet and covered his girlfriend’s body with the blanket. “You had to have known someone was in here with her. I left my shoes in the genkan.”

 

Uryu sighed.  “I don’t care if it was Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson in here. We have a meeting.  As for staring at her, I mean, c’mon, I may be gay, but everyone likes boobs.”

 

Ulquiorra let out a low growl. “You can fuck off,” he snapped. “I’m keeping her here until I am satisfied.”

 

Orihime blushed and smiled, hiding her face from her roommate as he groaned.  “Oh gross. Orihime. It’s for Zerge.”

 

He narrowed his eyes and looked at the other man. “Zerge? Isn’t that your designer friend?” Ulquiorra asked, prodding Orihime’s shoulder. “Or was it Aki you did the photo shoot for?”

 

Orihime removed her face from his shoulder and answered, “It was Zerge that Quin and I did the shoot for;  Aki is helping me with my collection.”

 

It was too many people for him to keep straight. “It doesn’t explain why he just barged in here!” Ulquiorra said.

 

Uryu sighed again, this time with emphasis.”It’s nothing I haven’t seen a million times before and will probably see a million times again.  It’s not a big deal.”

 

“I’m ripping off his head this time,” he muttered to the woman. “You are a dick, and you certainly will not be looking at _my_ lover like that again. It may not be a big deal to you, but it is to me!”

 

Orihime was glad to hear him say that but she didn’t want a fight in her bedroom.  “Ok, alright, everyone take a deep breath. We’re all adults here, right? Now, Quin, I know you’re used to just having free reign here but I’m in a relationship with Ulquiorra now, and you’ll have to respect that, so no more barging in here or sleeping in my bed.  Ulquiorra, no maiming or murder. Now I don’t remember making an appointment with Zerge for today. What is it?”

 

Uryu took a step toward the bed and held out his phone.  “Our proofs came back today. We’re supposed to go and look them over.”

 

Ulquiorra scowled. He didn’t want Orihime to leave. “Does she have to go? Can’t you go?”

 

Uryu shrugged.  “I guess if you don’t care, it’s fine.  You could just mark the ones you like on my phone, and I could go.   Here,” he said passing her the phone, ”Look at them for a minute while I get breakfast ready.”

 

He watched as Orihime took the phone and unlocked it. Were she and the Quincy that close that they knew how to unlock each other’s phones? Orihime had disclosed that they had gotten “handsy”. That might have dictated their closeness. He watched her swipe through the photos, zooming in on some or tilting her head a certain way to look at a pose. She seemed to have an eye for this kind of thing. “You want to go, don’t you?”

 

She grumbled unintelligibly and then answered, “No, I don’t want to go today.  Zerge can video conference me if need be. But look at these, they came out fantastic!  Almost as good as ours,” she said, showing him the picture of her and Uryu with their hands on one another’s shoulder.

 

He took in the composition; the lighting; the two models expressions. They both had an air of professionalism that bled through the pictures. It was unlike the photos he had done with Orihime. Those had been raw and dynamic. Ulquiorra didn’t know the first thing about modeling, but he had made it work for him. He had masked everything when he had been partnered with Yui; the disinterest and the distasted for the job. “You two look good together, but it’s nowhere near what you and I look like.”

 

She raised an eyebrow at him.  She was sure he would have reacted jealously, but here he was looking at things rationally.  “You’re right, it doesn’t compare,” she said leaning over and kissing his cheek.

 

Ulquiorra caught her face with his hand. He stared at her, eyes darting from side to side. “Orihime, did last night mean what I think it meant? Does this mean we’re back together?”

 

“Yes, I said as much. I wouldn’t play around with you.”

 

“I was just making sure,” he said. Ulquiorra sighed. “Does that mean we pick up where we left off three months ago?”

 

She looked aside and screwed her lips up into a thoughtful expression.  “No, not exactly. I mean, I think we’re in a much better place in our relationship than we were three months ago.  We weren’t communicating well then is what I mean. I think we are better at it now.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, he looked at the blanket covering them. She had misunderstood him. “I know we are, but I mean… Will you be staying here?” The question came out so quiet, and he sounded so weak. Ulquiorra shook his head. “Nevermind.”

 

“Ulquiorra, do you want me to move in with you?” she asked.  She had been staying at his place almost every night before they had broken up, but they didn’t officially live together.  She had to be sure what he meant.

 

“Yes. I would like it. You don’t have to though. I mean we did just get back together.” Ulquiorra raised his gaze to her face.

 

Orihime was beside herself.  He was so fucking cute she couldn’t stand it.  How was this Espada No. 4? More like lost, little puppy.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pecked little kisses all over his face, ending with his mouth.  And then another on the mouth and another for good measure, before pulling her mouth back and answering, “Well, I have about six months left on my lease here.   How about I keep my big stuff here, because I have to pay rent anyway, and stay with you, and then we can consider looking for a place together that isn’t at the top of 12 flights of steps?”  She squinted one eye and put on a pained smile, hoping he wouldn’t object too strongly. She thought of a bonus, “Also, that way if we're out around Shibuya we don’t have to go all the way back to Koenji to crash, you know?”

 

His forehead wrinkled. Give up his loft? Leave his neighbors that he had a friendly rapport with and grown to tolerate? Ulquiorra had to admit, without the use of Sonido, going up twelve flights of stairs sucked. “I will make this concession but,” he paused to look at her. “Whatever place we pick must have good natural light. We could just stay here when you don’t feel like walking up those stairs.”

 

Her smile lit up the room, “Agreed!” she said, then her eyes fell, then her lips fell, then her entire face fell, looking down to the bed.  “Um, Ulquiorra, there’s one problem; something I haven’t told you about…”

“What is it, Woman?” His voice sounded apprehensive.

 

She sighed deeply, and her shoulders dropped as she picked at an imaginary spot in the blanket.  “Well, it’s really embarrassing. I…” she paused to take a deep breath. “I owe Uryu _a lot_ of money.  Since I stopped modeling, I have been relying on him a lot, you know, um, financially.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to move out and pay him back in time.”

 

Instantly his face relaxed; money worries. Here he was thinking the worst things ever going through his mind as she lied about being on birth control or that this had been a one-time thing. Ulquiorra shook his head.

 

Then he thought about it. The modeling gigs that wanted him and Orihime together paid more than the solo gigs. “So we model,” he replied. “We can pose together. I can paint and book more art shows. I could move in here with you and help you out...” He bit his lip. He sounded so dumb.

 

Her eyes widened. He would consider doing that for her?  It was hard to believe, much less accept. “But you hate modeling.  This place is dark, and you don’t have an obligation to support me… we’re not married or anything;  Uryu only does it because he’s always been generous and it’s his dad’s money anyway, and he feels responsible for me…” she realized that what she was saying was all coming out wrong and could be interpreted badly.  She stopped talking, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “I don’t know what I am trying to say; it just seems like your idea is not beneficial to you and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

 

He shrugged. She was correct, but if they were going to be together, it would only be right for them to pool their resources. “It was an idea.”

 

Yep.  Orihime had done it.  She put her foot in her mouth already.  Not twenty-four hours into it and she had already made him clam up on her.  She flopped down on the mattress and covered her eyes with one hand, “I’m such an idiot,” she said under her breath, then turned her face to him, “We’ll see how it goes, ok?  You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

 

“When have I ever done something against my will? And don’t reply modeling. I did that for you,” Ulquiorra stated.

 

Orihime raised an eyebrow at him.  “Exactly. Modeling. You’re offering to do it again, for me, and you don’t want to.  I don’t want to be the cause of your suffering,” she said, making light of the word ‘suffering’, but meaning it nonetheless.  She groaned and sat up again. “I’ll just work more. I’ve been selfishly immersing myself in my collection when I really have no business doing it.  I need to be realistic. Stop turning down less than ideal gigs--” she paused, “Although it’s still a no to the porno guys.”

 

Immediately, he scowled at the mention of the word porno. “Maybe if it was us together but otherwise, absolutely not! Another man will _never_ touch you.” Ulquiorra wasn’t even bothering to hide the jealousy that laced his tone.

 

His words and tone were an instant aphrodisiac.  Her cheeks colored and she looked at his face, his fine nostrils flaring and his reptilian eyes dark with possessiveness, and her lips parted, her tongue darting out to wet them.  “What would you do if one tried?” she asked breathlessly, not aware the question had escaped her lips.

 

“I may not have powers anymore but I would attempt to maim someone. I’ve done searches on how much pressure it takes to rip limbs off.” Ulquiorra glanced at the door, where the Quincy exited. “I swear the next time he touches you, I’m going to hurt your friend.”

 

She smiled, “I’ll make sure he gets the memo.”  Then she took a deep breath. “Honesty time, Ulquiorra.  I would not feel comfortable making you make a commitment like the one you made to Markus, but if you have time and don’t mind, some one-off modeling things would really help me out.”

 

Weren’t there things called royalties in this world? He had been using her image to make money. _Midori No Ai_ had sold for a nice sum of money. “I’ve made my fortune off of your face and body. You should get a portion of that,” Ulquiorra stated.

 

She lowered her brows and looked at him seriously.  “No, except for T _he Woman and The Moon_ , those paintings were based on your memories or for modeling you already paid me for.  If you would like to hire me to sit for you again, that can be arranged, though.”

 

“I would pay you to sit on me.” Ulquiorra smirked. He was teasing her and he hoped she took it this way. “Seriously though, I can arrange for you to sit for me whenever you have time.”

 

“Well, only if you want to paint me,” she said, hopeful.  

 

He scoffed in a joking manner. “Orihime, what don’t you understand? Only if I want to? Woman, where you are concerned I would do anything because it would make me happy and perhaps it would make you happy. The only thing I would not do is hurt you.” Ulquiorra leaned over and kissed her slowly. “I’d paint you. I’d paint on you. I love recreating different versions of you.”

 

She raised a brow at that.  “Do you remember something we talked about a long time ago?  I kind of jumped the gun,” she said, looking down at her hips and back to his eyes.

 

“We’ve talked about a lot of things,” Ulquiorra replied. “Was it when I was an arrancar or as a human?”

  


She laughed,  “It was when we first got together, and you showed me your tattoos.  I asked if you would paint something on me to test out a potential tattoo.”

 

The conversation came back to him. He found the idea of painting on her to be shatteringly erotic and sensual. He couldn’t even voice his desire at the time. “Would you get another one?” Ulquiorra asked, his question was quiet but he looked at Orihime with eyes full of lust.

 

“If it looked nice, and had meaning,” she said teasingly.  Then her eyes narrowed. “So, tell me truly, what do you think about the 4?”

 

“I want to put my mouth on it, much like you did to mine. I want my tongue to trace it.” Ulquiorra bit his lip. “I want to touch it.”

 

“Easy there, tiger,” she laughed, but laid down, keeping the blanket over her for now.  “I’ll let you touch it, but you didn’t answer my question. I didn’t ask what you wanted to do to it.  I asked what you thought about it.”

 

Ulquiorra frowned. He was becoming aroused just from being near her and thinking about what he wanted to do to her. “Oh,” he sighed. “I don’t understand why you would want something like that permanently on your body when I hurt you. Why not get something that made you happy?”

 

It was her turn to frown now.  “I wanted it to remember you, just as you wanted to paint The Woman and the Moon.”

 

“That painting brought me joy. My number has done nothing but bring tears to your eyes. I have done nothing but make you cry, Orihime.”

 

“Well, that is patently untrue, Espada.  You have made me moan and call your name in ecstasy,” she said in a haughty tone, then smiled and continued, “You have made me laugh.  You have made me smile, think, play… Give yourself some credit.” She smiled, then touched the 4 on his chest. “But, when I think of this number… maybe it’s illogical, but it makes me feel safe.  I got it as kind of a talisman as well as a reminder. Maybe it was just orders or whatever, but even when I was a prisoner, I knew if I saw your number, I would be protected.”

 

“Woman, do you remember that battle between Kurosaki and I in the fifth Tower? The one where you put up a shield between us?” Ulquiorra looked at her then at his hands. “I can only remember bits and pieces of it anymore. I keep getting flashes of other things and people. I’ve never seen them before though.”

 

“I remember it like it was yesterday.  What kind of flashes?” She sounded concerned.

 

Ulquiorra shook his head, already forgetting what he was getting at. At first, he thought they were weird dreams. He’d never said anything about them. “Just weird flashes of white light. They started some weeks back. I think my memories of when I was a Hollow are fading.”

 

Orihime looked alarmed.  “Are your memories just fading, or are they being replaced?”  She didn’t know what brought her to that suspicion, but the idea terrified her.

 

He raised an eyebrow. Ulquiorra was confused. “Is that not how the human mind works? You make memories to replace the faded ones?”

 

“Sometimes, but there are some memories that are burned in deep and cannot be erased.  You’re saying, though, that the new memories are yours, though, right? From the past four years?”

 

The man shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone who was a gigantic hand or any other Shinigami… The one in my dream was fat and had purple hair.”

 

Orihime’s eyes widened.  “Whatever you had planned today, cancel it.  We’re taking a day trip.”

 

***

 

Orihime texted Ichigo while Ulquiorra was in the shower.  She didn’t have Urahara’s number in her phone; she hadn’t transfered it over when she got a new phone years ago.  She should not have been surprised that Ichigo was being a hard-headed ass and insisted that she meet him in Karakura so they could go to Urahara’s together.  She groaned as she set the phone down. She really didn’t have a choice.

 

After she got ready to leave and they got on the local express train to Karakura, she knew it was time to come clean.  It would be better to give Ulquiorra a chance to get used to the idea; if she told him now, he would have thirty-five minutes on the train to do it.

 

“So, I have good news and bad news, which do you want first?”  she asked.

 

“It’s always the bad news first, Woman. What is it?” Ulquiorra asked giving her a glance out of the corner of his eyes.

 

She nodded.  “Well, the bad news is, I didn’t keep Urahara’s phone number, so I had to ask Kurosaki for it.  He won’t give it to me.”

 

The dark-haired male turned his head and scowled. “Okay, is that where we’re going? I’ve already told you that he can’t or won’t help. What’s the good news?”

 

“Well, what you just said kind of proves how good this this news is: Kurosaki has insisted on coming with us to Urahara’s and has made an appointment.  He still has a lot of sway.”

 

Ulquiorra sighed loudly, clearly vexed about this news. He lowered his voice and grumbled, “I--I don’t give a fuck if Kurosaki could talk a rich person out of their money. That asshole killed me. I don’t care if it was a hollowfied version of him!”

 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but hear me out, okay?  The memories you described, the ones that are replacing your old ones, they’re significant.  You shouldn’t have them. They’re from the last war. We _need_ help.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

She looked at him with a weary expression.  “I was there.”

 

Well of course she was there, she was Kurosaki’s savior when it came down to it, bringing him back to life. “You were merely a healer for him,” Ulquiorra said.

 

“Regardless.  I saw with my own eyes some of what you see in your visions.  It shouldn’t be possible. We have to make sure that this is not going to lead to something more serious.” There was real fear in her voice.

 

He looked at her confused. “You mean there’s a Shinigami who is a gigantic hand? I don’t understand.”

 

“I don’t either,” she said, taking his hand and holding it tight.  “I heard about a lot of unbelievable things. I think I told you I spent a good deal of time in Hueco Mundo during the war.  I didn’t see all the things you’ve described, but I was told about them. You need to talk to Kurosaki and Urahara. Only they will be able to confirm or deny my suspicions.”

 

Scoffing, Ulquiorra set his mouth in a thin line. “You are aware that I loathe Kurosaki and I’ve already pleaded Urahara to tell me why I am here; why I am alive. He shrugged.”

 

She covered his hand with her other one and prayed to heaven that he would understand.  “I know. But that’s why we need Kuro-dumbass. He’s not my favorite person either, remember?”

 

“I shouldn’t be alive. I should be in hell with the rest of the dead Espada. Why was I spared?” Ulquiorra shook his head. “I don’t understand this. None of it. I’ve been having these flashes since I woke up in that dirty bathroom. They’re just dreams.”

 

“The answer to your first question is obvious, Ulquiorra.  You were redeemed. The mechanics of your redemption are a mystery, I suppose.  Maybe it’s because you found your heart as an Arrancar? Maybe because I prayed for your soul every day?  Maybe it was just because you were struck down by a Shinigami’s zanpakuto, I don’t know. But you have been redeemed.”

 

“Pretty sure your friend decimated my body by a Cero,” Ulquiorra said. He looked at Orihime. “What if you’re wrong and they’re just dreams?”

 

“I hope I am wrong!  Then the worst that happens is we wasted a trip and probably have to go get a drink with Mr. Dipshit.”

 

“TCH.” Ulquiorra folded his arms over his chest. “If they aren’t dreams then what do we do? What could be causing it? Would it have something to do with your witchy powers?”

 

“I am _not_ a witch.  Supposedly this is just…” she didn’t want to go there once she thought about it.

 

Ulquiorra sighed and put an arm around her shoulders. “I know. You can reject the past or time. But to someone with no spiritual pressure, I can’t see your little--planes? Are they planes?”

 

She smiled.  “No, they’re not planes.  They’re like, sprites or fairies.”

 

“I can’t see them. The day you showed me that trick… nothing. One minute you were crying and had makeup running down your face, the next good as new.” Ulquiorra studied her face. “As a human, this is very overwhelming. I can’t feel the hollows. I can’t see what you or the Quincy can do. I’m powerless.”

 

Orihime leaned into his arm and nodded.  “I know. I’m sorry it scares you. I’ll try not to do it anymore.  Although,” she said, pulling her hair away from her hairline, “there are some benefits.  Remember when i was at the hospital? I had a gash here that needed a stitch. No scars!” she said with a grin.

 

He frowned. The day at the hospital brought back bad memories. He had walked out on her that day. They had fought. He had said terrible things to her. “Sometimes, it can be good I guess. Why do you think I don’t have any spiritual pressure? I thought if I came back I would have it.”

 

Orihime shrugged.  “I don’t know. I assume the body you inhabit didn’t have any to begin with.  But, you know, I didn’t always have any. I developed it over time. Maybe you will too?”

 

“Did you put that shield in front of Kurosaki or me?” The question he wanted to ask hours ago finally came to his mind. It was random but he finally remembered. His human brain was often random.

 

She frowned and looked at him, knowing that he would at least be partially disappointed with her answer.  “Neither. I put it between you.”

 

“And there’s no way that you could have used your fairies on me, correct? Like you did with Grimmjow or Kurosaki?”

 

She closed her eyes and a look of deep pain crossed her features.  She breathed a labored breath and confessed. “I don’t know. I stood there, after you faded to ash, with my arm extended to the point where you stood, like an idiot,  for too long. I was devastated. You finally understood. You _finally_ saw me, and you were gone.  By the time I snapped out of it, there was nothing left of you to restore. I tried to gather your ashes but it all mixed in with the sands of Hueco Mundo.  I brought it home with me after the war and tried. If you ever wanted to call me a witch, it would have been then. I set your ashes in a dish and tried to restore you.  I was too late. I failed you.” She did not open her eyes. She didn’t want to see how disappointed he was sure to be.

 

Ulquiorra observed how she was holding herself and the wounded expression on her face. “Woman, I always saw you. I was always looking at you. You didn’t fail me. You tried to help. I was too far gone at that point.”

 

“It was my biggest regret.  I was never the same after that.  When I saw you alive in that club back in winter,  I thought I was finally losing my mind. Guilt had caught up to me and I was seeing things.  Then when I went to your show and saw your paintings and met you, it was like…. I can’t even begin to describe it.  Exhilarating. Terrifying. Redeeming. It was like I was being given a second chance too, you know?”

 

“Why didn’t you come over and talk to me if you saw me?” he asked. He was truly curious. He had seen her that night but brushed it off as another fashionable bitch.

 

She smiled then, “I pointed you out to Quin and he said I was wrong.  He said, and I quote, “Spooky. Don't worry about it, Boo, he's fuckin' dead!”  she laughed.’

 

“What about in the art gallery when I kissed you? What did you think then? Did you even think of _why_ I was there? Why I was alive?”

 

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “Come on, babe, please. You _kissed_ me. It was a mind-blowing thing. How was I supposed to use my brain at a time like that?”

 

Ulquiorra huffed. “There isn’t a way I can phrase what you think is happening and google it, can I?”

 

She stopped her little trip down memory lane about her first real kiss and came back to the present.  “Sadly, no. That’s why we need to go to Karakura.”


	20. Jealous of the Way...

They were pretty much silent for the rest of the trip. When the train stopped at Karakura Station, Ulquiorra spied the orange head of Kurosaki waiting for them… The dark-haired man had a feeling that the shinigami was expecting just the redhead, not both of them. He had no idea though and he wasn’t going to ask. He had been mulling over what Orihime had said. And it kept going back to the same damn thing.

 

He’d been redeemed from hell just because he had fallen in love. He didn’t have any spiritual pressure but was having dreams or nightmares of people he had never met or seen. It was confusing for him. Orihime had talked about a war, but she never said what happened in this war. No one told him who had won and what was lost.

 

Orihime didn’t have a good feeling about this trip.  As soon as she saw Ichigo, her heart fell into her stomach.  It would have whether or not Ulquiorra was there; it was her default reaction to the shinigami.  Still, today was different. The object of her affection was going to be subject to scrutiny, and it did not sit well with her.

 

When the couple got off the train, Kurosaki’s face fell.  Ulquiorra has been right that he expected Orihime alone. “So, it’s been a while for you, hasn’t it, Espada?”

 

Ulquiorra wasn’t going to even speak to Kurosaki, but that bastard addressed him. Since it was bright out, his eyes showed their true nature, and they slid in the other man’s direction. “Espada now, is it? I have a name, _Kurosaki_. You didn’t have any problems screaming it at me while you were in Hueco Mundo.”

 

“Excuse me, it’s not like there is an etiquette class for how to properly address one’s fallen enemies,” Ichigo responded with an eye roll.

 

“An apology would work. How can I be your enemy, I’m human… Aren’t Shinigami sworn to protect humans?”

 

“Tch,” Ichigo replied.  “Sure. So what do you need to see Hat-and-Clogs for?”

 

Ulquiorra said nothing. He didn’t think it was the other male’s business what he was doing in Karakura. It was only when Orihime took his hand that he sighed. “I’d much rather only tell it once so if you could direct us to Urahara’s...”

 

“Yeah, well, here’s the thing, Urahara naps until 5:00 so we’ve got some time to kill.  Inoue, I was thinking I could show you how they’ve updated the town square; you won’t even recognize it…”

 

Orihime’s face kind of dampened Ichigo’s spirit.  She saved him the effort of trying to salvage what was left of his pride.  “Actually, if we could just get some tea or something until then, I think that would be better, right?” She squeezed Ulquiorra’s hand and looked to him for his opinion.

 

His face remained blank but inside, Ulquiorra was loving how every little thing Orihime did seemed like it killed the man’s soul. He was internally gloating. “I think Orihime and I could wander around town by ourselves and meet up with you in a few hours.”

 

“Oh, yes, that’s a good idea.  We don’t want to keep you from whatever you had planned for today, Kurosaki-kun,” Orihime said with a sweet smile, leaning into Ulquiorra’s shoulder.

 

Ichigo looked back and forth between their faces as his own grew somewhat pale.  He had heard about their breakup but the news of their recoupling had not yet reached him.   It came as a bit of a shock. Finally, he nodded and said, “Yeah, ok. Meet me at my dad’s place at 4:30 and we can walk there together.  You still remember where that is, right Inoue? It was always on your leftover bread delivery route,” he said with a lame laugh.

 

Orihime sighed.  “Yes, I remember.”

 

Ulquiorra slightly raised his eyebrow and smirked at the person who killed him years ago. His attempts at trying to entice Orihime were lame. Even lamer than Ulquiorra’s attempts at flirting with her.

 

“Okay, just checking,” Ichigo said, scratching the back of his head then looking at his watch.  “Alright, I’ll see you two in a couple of hours I guess,” he said before turning around and walking away.

 

Orihime sighed as she watched him walk away.  She felt kind of bad for him. She didn’t know why.  She was well within her rights to despise him, but she didn’t.  He was just dumb. He was never malicious.

 

Since Ulquiorra was always observing and studying Orihime, he noted her reaction towards Kurosaki. His mouth turned down at the corners. “Woman, is there anywhere you’d like to go first?” he asked.

 

She shook her head.  “Honestly, this town is just a bummer for me. We could go to the park that Yammy destroyed.  That would be nostalgic.”

 

His frown deepened. He’d been thinking about that place. It was the first time he had met Orihime… Well, he couldn’t say met. He had seen her. He noticed her. Yammy had killed people that day by sucking their souls out of them. He’d done it against Aizen’s orders. They had come to the world of the living that day to kill one person and that was it. “I was curious to see it myself. It was the place where we first came into contact with one another. What possessed you to take on that dumbass?”

 

“Yammy?  Well, he was threatening my friend.  I couldn’t stand idly by.”

 

“But you weren’t worried or scared by the little guy who brought that oaf down by a flick of his wrist or deflected Urahara’s attack?” Ulquiorra shook his head. “You’ve always been an intriguing individual.”

 

“I wouldn’t call you little, Ulquiorra.  I mean, compared to Yammy anyone looks small…”  she didn’t know why she felt such a strong compulsion to defend him from himself.  She shook her head. “I wasn’t worried about you because your spiritual pressure was so well contained that I could barely detect it.  You were so beyond my capabilities.”

 

He chuckled. It wasn’t that. He had on one of those bracelets that masked his spiritual pressure. He could have contained it but it was such a hassle and it really didn’t matter because Yammy had tagged along and the entire thing could have been a stealth operation but the former Diez Espada was an idiot. “Compared to you, I’m tall.”

 

She smiled at him adoringly before looking ahead as they walked, “That is very true.  Even then. The body you inherited is slightly taller than you were in your unreleased state though, isn’t it?”

 

Ulquiorra looked down at his feet and then at Orihime. “I’m not sure. I seem a lot taller than you now. I remember in the dangai… You didn’t seem as tiny or as short. Hopefully, this trip will answer some of those questions I have. Why do I have abnormal eyes if I’m supposed to be human? Did I take over someone’s body? Did I possess a human?”

 

Orihime hummed noncommittally.  “I don’t know, but can I ask, have you _ever_ been to a doctor since you’ve been human?”

 

“No, never. I never get sick. I never get hurt.”

 

Orihime furrowed her brows and looked in his direction.  “That’s all well and good, but you should get checked out periodically just to make sure your body is healthy.  If you are truly only human now, you have to take good care of your body. If you were to become ill, I don’t know how much I would be able to do for you.  Of course, I would do anything I could, but… you know. I can’t lose you again to something like an illness.”

 

His lover was being sappy again but it made Ulquiorra smile. He slipped his arm around her waist. “I do take care of my body. I exercise. I eat. I hydrate. I have gotten tested for any foreign diseases.”

 

“Ok, great.  But have you had your blood pressure checked?  Your glucose levels? Protein and blood in your urine?  Have you been checked for testicular cancer? Do you get a flu shot? Get your lungs checked out?  I mean, you should know how tall you are.”

 

“I’ve heard things about these doctors. They’re going to take one look at my eyes and run… Screaming. I cannot claim that they’re contacts to someone who actually looks at them,” he stated. Ulquiorra knew that going to an actual doctor would be a bad idea. “I need answers from Urahara first… Then I might think about visiting a doctor.”

 

“Well, if you do, you’re in the right place.  There are two here in this town who will take the truth about your eyes in stride, and there is another one in training.  Not that you’re keen to meet them, I’m sure, but your health takes priority.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “What about your own health? The woman who lost weight and wasn’t sleeping?”

 

“Well, I do see a doctor.  I have to in order to get my prescription.  I’m healthy as an ox, I’m told. I apparently needed to lose that weight anyway,” she said with an uncomfortable look on her face.

 

“Psht. I could tell the difference. You didn’t need to lose anything.” Ulquiorra looked at her with a stern look. “You’re almost perfect, remember?”

 

She laughed.  “Well, my resting bitch face kind of disappeared since we got back together, so…” she blushed as they turned a corner and came up upon the park that was their destination.

 

It looked like the same place. Maybe they added some playground equipment or something. Ulquiorra didn’t know. It had been Yammy’s body that had caused the crater to form in the ground. The neanderthal had jumped out of the gargantua. Ulquiorra had to jump after him. That park had been a complete disaster after their skirmish with the humans and ex-shinigamis. It looked perfectly normal now. “No evidence we were even here.”

 

“Nope, just our memories.  Did it even cross your mind for a split second the first time you were here that you would ever be standing here again, six years later, with me as your girlfriend?” she laughed at her own words. Of course, he hadn’t.  She would have never considered it at that time.

 

His expression grew somber and he shook his head. “I was told to protect Los Noches to the death. That’s what I did. I had an idea I would die in Hueco Mundo; just not by a Hollowfied human’s hands. I expected that Aizen would have cut me down after he won because I had destroyed the palace.”

 

“Luckily for you, someone, rather two someones, got to him first,” she replied.  She gently removed his hand from her waist so she could walk over to a pair of swings that stood in a sandy depression in the ground.  She sat and started to twist and sway, caught up in the memories.

 

Ulquiorra watched her then followed her actions, taking the swing next to her but he didn’t move. He just sat there. Sometimes he didn’t understand the purposes of memories, especially when they seemed to make Orihime sad. “Do you miss that day?”

 

“No, I don’t.  I was still in Hueco Mundo trying to fix Quin and the bodies of broken shinigami when it happened.  I was not invited to that fight.”

 

“Ah,” he commented. “At least you did some good. You helped others.”

 

“Mmmm,” she replied.  “I did, I suppose.” She was quiet for a long moment afterward. Then she had a thought that had sometimes popped into her head, one that Ulquiorra had let drop early in their relationship but one that was kind of topical now that they were in Karakura.  “You know that I am over Kurosaki, right?”

 

Immediately, Ulquiorra’s body stiffened. He turned his head slightly and looked at her. Was she blind? Did she not notice the way that brat’s eyes traveled over her form? “He doesn’t seem over you. If he tries anything, I will attempt to maim him.”

 

“Ha!” she laughed sharply.  “If he tries anything, you won’t have to lift a finger.  I’ll maim him myself.”

 

***

 

By the time they arrived at Kurosaki Clinic, Orihime’s stomach was in knots.  Ulquiorra probably didn’t mean to plant ideas into her head, but his mention of Ichigo’s wandering eyes had put her in a bad mood.  How dare he? After all these years, after she finally found someone who she could call a partner, a lover; how dare he try to sniff around her?  He didn’t have the right.

 

So when they turned the corner and arrived at the small medical facility to see Ichigo standing outside, she couldn’t help but sneer.  She stopped her forward motion. Ulquiorra did not immediately notice and walked ahead several paces. She stood where she stopped, fighting an urge just to turn around and leave or sic Tsubaki on the Shinigami.  She knew neither course of action was appropriate. They needed him, unfortunately.

 

When he didn’t feel Orihime beside him, Ulquiorra turned back and peered at her. His head then swung back to where the orange-haired male stood. He really wished that he had some kind of power but knowing his luck the moment he got some spiritual pressure would be the day that the Soul Society would be brought down on his head, like a pack of wild dogs chomping at the bit for him. “Woman,” he called out to her and extended his hand toward her. When she looked at him, Ulquiorra said, “Focus, we’re here for us. Not him.”

 

Orihime nodded slowly and walked toward him, taking his hand and grasping it firmly, wrapping her free one around his elbow for good measure.  She saw Ichigo’s eyes narrow slightly. Her lips curled up almost imperceptibly at the corners as she formulated a vague plan to stick it to Shinigami without having to talk to him about his inappropriate behavior.  She turned her face toward Ulquiorra’s head and whispered into his ear, “If you don’t mind, why don’t we just _accidentally_ display how irrelevant he is, as far as I’m concerned?”

 

“You want me to fuck you in front of him? Because that’s how irrelevant Kurosaki is to me. He’s a decoration, Woman.” Ulquiorra murmured to her in reply. “Do we actually need him?”

 

Orihime chuckled, “If you can do it and make it look like it was just something that happened, I don’t object,” she laughed again, then sighed.  “You said Urahara wasn’t helpful. Carrot-top over here is the only person willing to help me that can pressure him.”

 

Ulquiorra leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. He stayed like that, his mouth moving against the woman’s for a long moment. “Stop using honorifics with him,” he stated as he pulled away. “That’s one way to show him how much you don’t care.”

 

Orihime groaned.  “It goes against every fiber of my being not to use them.  I guess I can try,” she grumbled.

 

“Oi!” the Shinigami called as they made their approach.  “What was that over there? Can’t keep it behind closed doors?”

 

“Why should I? Just because you’re an emotional shut-in doesn’t mean I am,” Ulquiorra replied. “Settle down, _Killer_.”

 

“Tch,” Ichigo scowled.  “That’s rich, coming from the true face of despair or whatever the fuck you called it.”

 

“Nihilism, thanks for playing though. ”

 

“Besides, I think we’re 2 to 1 in the killer category, _Killer._  Don’t go throwing around names that apply to you unless you want them thrown back in your face,” Ichigo snarled, his spiritual pressure starting to rise.  

 

Of course, Ulquiorra couldn’t detect it, but Orihime did, and she was fucking furious. She stepped forward, her posture as menacing as her tiny body could be, her fists balled at her side and her eyebrows lowered, glaring at the redhead.  “Kurosaki, back down,” she demanded.

 

His face would have remained a blank slate but the way his girlfriend put herself between them, made Ulquiorra want to pat her on the head. He didn’t, but he thought it was adorable. “The fact that you are standing there today after I took your life twice is because of this woman right here. Did you ever thank her for saving you? Did you ever thank her for _giving you_ the power to defeat me?”

 

Ichigo scoffed.  “That’s debatable. And yes, I did thank you, didn’t I Inoue?”

 

Orihime just rolled her eyes.  “Sure, whatever. Can we get going?”

 

“Lead the way, asshole.” Ulquiorra glared at the other man, eye narrowing. He wished he could produce a Bala or a Cero because he wanted to reduce Kurosaki’s body to a scorch mark against the ground.

 

“I don’t _have_ to help you two, you know,” Ichigo grumbled.  “I’m only doing this for you, Inoue. If you don’t…” he didn’t know where he was going with that complaint, so he just let it trail off.  He was just feeling underappreciated by his former sidekick and wasn’t enjoying it.

 

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes. “Then don’t help. Be a bastard who only needs his friends when it suits him. Go back to your mundane life, Kurosaki,” the dark-haired man snapped.

 

Orihime sighed.  This wasn’t helping.  “Guys, please. Can we just focus on what’s important here?  I think you should tell him what’s been happening, Love.” She chose that endearment on purpose, but it completely genuine.

 

A straight eyebrow rose, and Ulquiorra sighed. “I’ve been having dreams. Normally they’d be of Hueco Mundo; our battle, Los Noches, what happened before the winter war. Then I would get other flashes of memories or visions. Bright blue and white light; a giant hand; a man with long blond hair… Someone with magenta hair. I knew no one with that color hair.”

 

Ichigo looked at Orihime first, then Ulquiorra, one brow slowly raising.  “I see. Yeah, I think you need to speak with Urahara…” he said, his voice laced with a measurable amount of anxiety.

 

“Orihime won’t tell me what happened. I died on that dome. You witnessed my death. What happened during that second war?” Ulquiorra asked, taking a step towards Kurosaki.

 

“Well, I can tell you my side of things, just like Orihime can tell you her side of what happened,” he looked over at her significantly, then breathed heavily through his nostrils, before continuing.  “I think the person with the most comprehensive knowledge of the events is that broken geezer. I can tell you one thing, Cifer; it was a total shitshow. Orihime and I barely made it out alive.”

 

Ulquiorra huffed out a breath, annoyed that those two had more memories to share than he did with Orihime. The memories that he did have were bittersweet. “Let’s go then. I want answers now.”

 

***

 

Ichigo had made an appointment. The trio arrived about two minutes early and were greeted outside by the tall man with dreadlocks. “Welcome. The master expects you. Right this way, please,” he bade them, stepping aside to let them in and offering them each a pair of slippers.

 

Orihime bowed and did as instructed, entering first.  She saw a shadowy figure shuffling toward her, his well-masked spiritual pressure preceding him, licking out at his guests, testing the air around them.  

 

Ulquiorra stood there. He didn’t feel a damn thing. He sighed, wondering why they were all just standing around. Were they going to meet with this asshole or not? He could hear the shuffling and the thumping coming down the hallway.

 

“Mr. Urahara, thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Orihime said, bowing, as the man stepped into the light.  She rose and looked to Ulquiorra, waiting for him also to pay his respects.

 

The dark haired man did not bow. He stood there, staring at the hunched over figure. This spiritual being looked just as sad as he did four years ago.

 

“You’re back,” Urahara said.

 

Orihime was anxious and didn’t want to wait for the two men to get over whatever was getting in the way of them speaking.  “I don’t know if Kurosaki told you, but things have changed since four years ago. Ulquiorra, please tell him.”

 

“I need answers.” Ulquiorra didn’t want to elaborate more than that. “You’re the only person who can give them to me.”

 

A sigh left the former shinigami. “Come back. Tessai, make some tea.”

 

It was Ulquiorra who strode after the man with purpose and when they were inside one of the interior rooms with cups of green tea in front of them, did he say what was going on. “Ever since I woke up as a human, I’ve had dreams.”

 

“Dreams are normal for humans, Cifer.”

  
  
“Of Hueco Mundo? Of people, I’ve never seen before? Do you people from the Soul Society keep around freaks that are shaped like hands or have dark pink hair and can manifest fire from their fingers? What about poison bubbles?”

 

The room was silent.

 

“I remember hearing about people like that.  You know who I am talking about, don’t you Kurosaki-kun?”  Orihime dropped back into using honorifics with him without thinking, memories of the last war, making her remember how she felt as a younger woman.

 

“Yeah…” was all the orange-haired man said, looking at Ulquiorra with a mixture of suspicion and fear.

 

“I have flashes of bright columns of light and terracotta roofs.”

 

Urahara held up a hand. “You died a year and some months before the war with Yhwach began. There’s no logical reason why you’re alive, Cifer.”

 

Ulquiorra sighed. Of course, the man was going to be difficult. “What happened during this war?”

 

“Lots of things. We lost a lot of people. Souls disappeared. Hollows disappeared. Arrancar--”

 

“Most of the Arrancar died when that _thing_ \--” Ulquiorra pointed to Kurosaki. “Invaded Hueco Mundo.”

 

“Please, guys, we can play the blame game and 21 questions later?  Urahara-san, is there anything you can think of that would allow for Ulquiorra’s soul to inherit a human body, after being incorporeal for almost two years?  I mean, it was always my understanding that hollows were purified if they were killed by a zanpakuto. I don’t know what happens if they die by other means.  I was there when Ulquiorra was killed… his actual cause of death was from Kurosaki-kun’s zanpaukto. It ripped him through the torso, cutting through his organs, which was his direct cause of death, although it did not occur until some time later due to his regeneration ability at that time,” she paused to take a breath.  “That alone should mean that his soul would be purified, right? So how would it be just floating around one minute and in an overdose victim in Kabukicho the next?”

 

“All Espada were designated to go to hell when they died. What happened, Cifer? We know this information from Nel. She told this freely. Why do the Espada go directly to hell? Why aren’t you there?” Urahara asked. “When he answers this question, I might disclose more information.”

 

Ulquiorra glared at Urahara then shifted his glance towards his lover then her supposed friend. “All the Espada held an aspect of death. Loneliness. Time. Sacrifice. Nihilism. Destruction. Intoxication. Madness. Greed. Rage. I threw away my aspect of death. Hollows only know what are considered the “seven deadly sins”, that’s why we go directly to hell.”

 

“Why?” Urahara questioned. He had pulled out that fan and was waving it in front of his face. “You were which aspect?”

 

“I was Nihilism. I was nothing. I cared about nothing.” Ulquiorra looked at Orihime.

 

Orihime nodded at him and took his hand.

 

“I believe I was redeemed from hell for gaining a heart. Or at least falling in love with someone I had no business having an emotional connection with,” Ulquiorra stated.

 

Ichigo scoffed at that.  Orihime shot him a dirty look and reoriented her body toward Ulquiorra more clearly, her breasts surrounding his elbow.  She didn’t want there to be any mistake about the reality of her relationship to Ulquiorra between the other two men there.

 

“So the rumors are true,” Urahara said quietly. He took a sip of his tea and then looked between the couple and the substitute shinigami. “The Thousand Year Blood War meant the death of a lot of people. It meant the death of the Soul King. Aizen planned to create the Ouken and take over as Soul King, was it not? Yhwach destroyed his father, murdering the Soul King.”

 

Ulquiorra scowled. “What does that have to do with my being brought to life?”  
  
“If you were a regular soul, hanging out but hadn’t gone to the soul society, it could be possible that when the Soul King died, and Yhwach killed all those other souls, your soul invaded a body of someone who recently died.” Urahara’s tone didn’t sound confident.

 

Ichigo sighed. Heavily.  “That still doesn’t explain why he’s having memories of things that happened during the war.”

 

“The Soul King holds all the memories of all the souls. Those who die return to him, Kurosaki,” Urahara stated. “It’s possible that what happened during the war, imprinted on those souls who weren’t committed to a realm. How do you feel when you get these dreams?”

 

Ulquiorra’s eyes shifted from side to side. He didn’t think Orihime knew what happened during the night when the nightmares came, and he didn’t want to say anything about it. “Cold sweat. Panicking. I can’t breathe. Fear. Anxiety. I often get out of bed and am up for several hours.”

 

Orihime’s expression grew worrisome.  Her free hand came to rest on his bicep, “Why didn’t you tell me?  I mean, I know you sometimes get up, but…” Her voice held a bit of hurt in addition to worry.

 

Ichigo sneered at the implication that his killer and his sometimes-love-interest were sharing a bed.  “You don’t have to shove it in our faces, Inoue,” he grumbled.

 

“Kurosaki!” Urahara scolded. “It’s not your place to say anything either. In fact, I don’t think you need to be here anymore. I have a package that needs delivered to _The King_.”

 

The shop owner sighed. “I think what is going on is just memories of the past coming to the surface while you sleep, Cifer.”

 

“Tch, where is it?” Ichigo asked, rolling his eyes.  He did not appreciate being treated like a gofer for a feeble ex-shinigami.

 

“Go speak to Tessai,” the blond said. “Give my regards to Nel and Tier.”

 

***

 

Orihime was bothered by Ichigo’s attitude for a long time after he left them at Urahara’s.  Something about how he reacted was off… She wasn’t sure if she could honestly call him a friend anymore.  Not that she had been particularly close to him over the past four years, but she always felt that when pressed, she could count on him as an ally.  Something about how he acted at their meeting at Urahara’s raised her intuitive alarm bells that this was no longer an assumption she should so easily carry.

 

She didn’t say anything about it to anyone though.  It wouldn’t do to cause needless worry or worse, have people poo-poo her fears.  Besides, she lived in Tokyo. He lived in Karakura. She had nothing more to do with supernatural comings and goings than Ulquiorra did now.  It was unlikely their paths would cross again soon, if ever.

 

Ulquiorra asked Urahara some other questions, but the man had shrugged. He didn’t know why the artist had such pupils or why he sometimes had enhanced reflexes or why the memories of Hueco Mundo were growing fuzzy and distant. Urahara said that it was just age, most likely. Memories were becoming distant in the wake of new ones.

 

“Well that seemed somewhat productive,” he commented as they were shown out of the building. “What did you take away from that?”

 

She took a deep breath and looked at him with a guarded expression.  “Well, as far as the mechanics of how you came to inhabit this body, I’m satisfied that the explanation Urahara provided is plausible and actually likely.  I was bothered by something, though. How about you? What did you think?”

 

“Kurosaki is a jealous jerk.”

 

She laughed, “I don’t know about _jealous,_ but I agree about the jerk part.  I think it bothers him that I could be with you after what happened between the two of you.  I think he feels betrayed, but it’s peculiar how… I can’t describe it. I just don’t feel like we can trust him, if that makes sense.”

 

Ulquiorra nodded. “I don’t see how you could have wanted to spend five lifetimes with him. The man is clearly a childish and immature person. No matter. It’s in the past.”

 

Orihime scoffed, “Give me a break, I was a kid when I said that.  And he was cute back then,” she added just to get a rise out of her boyfriend.

 

He smirked. “What did you think of me back then? Broody, pasty monster?” he said, teasing Orihime.

 

She bit her lip and smiled, “No… I thought you were dangerous, intense… Handsome,” she added the last descriptor quietly.  

 

“Are you flirting with me, Inoue Orihime?”

 

“No… Just telling you the truth.  What did you think of me back then?”  she asked, somewhat embarrassed. “Obnoxious?  Stupidly optimistic? Childish?”

 

Ulquiorra chuckled and shook his head. “You were unique. I didn’t care for your attitude, but you already knew that. I thought you were beautiful in that Arrancar uniform.”

 

She smiled, looking down at her feet as they walked.  “Do you have any idea how shocking it was to hear you compliment me back then?  I was sure I had misheard you.” She looked up at him and stopped, taking the time to admire his features objectively really.  She tilted her head as she took in the line of his jaw, his straight brow, the curve of his lips, his fine, china nose. He was a work of art, truly.  How she might have ever held Kurosaki in higher esteem was beyond her understanding now. She tilted her head in the opposite direction and smiled vaguely.  “You are really quite stunning,” she murmured, not really intending her words to reach him.

 

“So are you my love. Come, let’s go home.”


	21. Tattletale

He had numerous Hollows report to him. They all said the same damn thing.

 

“Sir, Kurosaki has returned!”

 

“My king, the shinigami is back.”

 

“Hey asshole! You’re just gonna let Kurosaki walk in here.”

 

Mouthy. Fucking. Fraccion.

 

Grimmjow sat on his throne in the ruins of Los Noches where he ruled with the other two living Espada. Well if you could call what those two did living. Tier lived in solitude in her palace. Nel ran around with those two idiots. He wasn’t surprised as the human/shinigami/hollow/quincy thing walked into the throne room.

 

“What the fuck do you want, loser?” Grimmjow snarled. “Come to fight me?”

 

“Tch. Fuck off Grimmjow. I came to deliver a package from Urahara,” Ichigo said, giving the blue-haired Arrancar a sneer. “And to deliver a message.”

 

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow but didn’t budge from his place on that stone chair. He put his chin in the palm of his hand, much like Aizen used to do. But while that traitor sat there with a smug expression, Grimmjow’s was grumpy. He didn’t get to fight much now that peace had come to Hueco Mundo. “Give whatever package to one of the servants. What’s the message?”

 

The envelope flew at him and Grimmjow caught it with a hand, ripping it open with one fingernail. The images that spilled out, over his lap and floor were confusing. “What is this Kurosaki?”

 

“What do you think it is?  That prick is alive,” Ichigo said with a small smirk.  “Thought you might be interested to know. There’s something else, too.”

 

Plucking one of the photographs up, Grimmjow peered at it. Someone one had scribbled lines down the man’s face. “Is this--Is that fucking Ulquiorra Cifer? That fucker is alive? What the fuck else is there to know Kurosaki? I’m getting my revenge on him. How has the Soul Society not eliminated him yet?”

 

Ichigo smiled.  This was playing out exactly how he had hoped it would.  “Because he has absolutely no spiritual pressure. He is human.  No power whatsoever. His little girlfriend has more juice in her little finger than he has in his entire body,” the shinigami gloated.

 

A sadistic grin spread over Grimmjow’s face. “Get out of here before I decide to pick a fight with you, Shinigami.”

 

***

 

Ulquiorra kept having a weird feeling come over him. He would be walking from a cafe or his apartment when the sensation slid down his spine. He’d be at the grocery store or the art supply place. He always shook it off. It was like a heavy, oppressing blanket had been put over him just for a moment. He thought he was just being paranoid because of what Urahara had said to him.

 

He’d done something that was practically impossible. Ulquiorra had possessed a dying body. It made no rational sense. His mood must have been apparent because he was laying in Orihime’s bed one night, looking up at the ceiling when she came in to the room.

 

“What’s going on with you, Love?  You’ve been acting like something’s been bothering you since we came back from Karakura.”

 

“I don’t know, Woman. I feel a sense of dread. Have you felt anything weird in the days since we came back from Urahara’s?” Ulquiorra asked, turning his head towards her.

 

She laid on her side next to him.  “I have not. I have sort of conditioned myself to ignore that kind of thing, or I would be feeling it all the time… I don’t know if I ever told you, but my ability to detect spiritual pressure is rather sensitive.”

 

This was the first time Ulquiorra had ever heard Orihime talk about this. “You can detect massive spikes of spiritual pressure, right? I keep feeling this weighty sensation at times. I’ll be walking along and all of a sudden I can’t breathe and I can’t move.”

 

Orihime’s face told him everything he needed to know, even though she tried to temper her reaction, her eyes widened and lips parted in fear.  She saw him recognize her feeling. “That feeling you describe… it is how it felt to be in your presence as an Arrancar. It’s how it felt to be near Aizen.”

 

“What is going on now?” He sat up on the bed and looked at her. “Wouldn’t there be shinigami in Tokyo to take care of them?”

 

Orihime sat up and knelt beside him.  “When was the last time this happened?”

 

Ulquiorra sighed. “Today. I was walking back from my apartment. I went there to drop off supplies I had bought. I’ve got a show coming up in a couple of months.”

 

Orihime nodded and sighed.  “Can I do something? It won’t hurt,” she asked.

 

He looked at her, his expression alarmed. “What?” he asked. Ulquiorra’s tone was cautious.  

 

“Just trust me,” she said, kissing his cheek and then kneeling up behind him so she was taller than him.  She put her hands on his shoulders and closed her eyes, becoming very quiet. She stayed that way for a long time.

 

After a minute he could hear her whisper, “Shut the fuck up, Quin…” then grow quiet again.

 

After another minute, he began to feel warm.  She remained silent with her hands on his shoulders for another three minutes, then gasped, pulling her hands away.

 

When he turned around to face her, she had a hand over her mouth and a pinched expression, shaking her head no.

 

“What did you do?” Ulquiorra asked. “Orihime, what did you do to me?”

 

“I should not have done anything _to_ you.  I was reading the residual spiritual pressure that clings to you.  Everyone has it, whether it’s from the recently deceased or hollows or shinigami,  or people like me or Quin. He is a nosy bastard, by the way, and he is much stronger at detecting things than I am.  Anyway, there is always spiritual energy floating around and it follows people who pass through it.”

 

Ulquiorra waited for her to finish but when she didn’t, he studied her expression. “Who is it? What is it?”

 

“It has to be a mistake,” she said with a small smile, but her eyes were growing increasingly anxious.  “I thought detected an Arrancar.”

 

“Shouldn’t we tell someone about this? Can’t you call the Quincy or Kurosaki or Urahara? Someone? I’m a human, Orihime. I can’t protect myself,” Ulquiorra said, his tone growing frantic.

 

Orihime gathered him into her arms and smoothed his hair, trying to comfort him.  “Shhhh, shhh, it’s okay. I will stay near you until this blows over, okay? Powers to defy a god, remember?”  She took his face in her hands and made him look at her. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” she swore to him.  “I’ll call Uryu right away, but I don’t know if we can trust Kurosaki or Urahara.”

 

Ulquiorra stared at her, with concerned eyes. “Woman you might have powers to defy the gods but you don’t have the powers to defeat an Arrancar. Unless you have a trick up your sleeve?”

 

“No, well, yes, but nothing on that level; nothing that could defeat an Arrancar.  I think I could protect you though.”

 

He wanted to believe her. Ulquiorra really, really did want to believe his girlfriend would and could defeat an Arrancar but he had been one in a former life. Being a former Arrancar and Espada, he knew how they operate and how powerful they could be.

 

She could tell he didn’t have faith in her.  “We could always run? Go somewhere they wouldn’t look to find us?  You have no spiritual presence. There’s no way they could track you,” she offered.

 

And start over, he thought. There was no way. Ulquiorra did not want to go anywhere. They had lives here. He had a reputation as an asshole artist. Why would he give that up just because some hollow wanted to stalk him?

 

Orihime could tell he was not receptive to her idea.  “Would you trust Uryu to handle this? He’s much more powerful than he once was, despite appearances.”

 

“Can the Quincy get it done? I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder waiting for whatever to strike. You can’t protect me all the time Orihime.” Ulquiorra huffed. “You have to go to school. I need to paint stuff. What are you going to do? Drag me along everywhere? I wouldn’t mind it but I think you might get annoyed with me.”

 

“I think he could but I’m not sure,” she was starting to get stressed.  “I don’t mind you being with me 24-7 but… You’re right, we need back up.”  She sighed heavily. “Do you want me to call Kurosaki? We know he can do it…”  She was not happy to admit it.

 

The green-eyed man shook his head. If Kurosaki was the cause of this then what was the point? The orange-headed bastard would know that he had gotten to them. “I don’t trust Kurosaki. He seemed petulant when Urahara dismissed him.”

 

“I know, that’s why I am worried…  Maybe if I could, ugh, appeal to his ego or something he would stand down?”

 

“The thing is, we don’t even know if it is him. It could just be a wild Hollow. It wouldn’t look good on us if we just threw baseless accusations around,” Ulquiorra stated.

 

“It wasn’t just any hollow I sensed, Ulquiorra.  It’s one I know, well,” she warned as well as admitted.  “It doesn’t really matter if Kurosaki has anything to do with it or not, if he's willing to stop it, it would be beneficial.  I would do almost anything to keep you safe, even if it is begging him to help,” she said as if the thought sickened her.

 

“Woman, you need to tell me who it is.”

 

“You know who it is,” she sighed.  “Grimmjow.”

 

***

 

Paranoia didn’t even begin to cover what he was feeling. Everywhere Orihime went, minus the bathroom, Ulquiorra followed her looking like a lost puppy. He was jumpy and twitched at every noise that was loud. He didn’t like going out into crowds. People in the woman’s classes and other fashion students whispered. He caught some of them but he didn’t care.  
  
Being in Orihime’s company was better than being in the Quincy’s company. The first day Orihime decided to pawn him onto Uryu, the man had yelled at him. Ulquiorra declined to follow the other man around.

Spending so much time with his girlfriend did give Ulquiorra some ideas on his next art show. He saw the sketches and the outfit his woman had put together for her collection. A lot of what he had seen was reminiscent of Hueco Mundo.

 

They were at the college one day while Orihime was working on something, Ulquiorra studied her. “Can I see your sketches? Do you have a sketchbook? Do you mind? Are there ones that aren’t going to be turned into physical pieces?”

 

She looked up at him in surprise and smiled.  This was the first time he had expressed a specific interest in her work.  “Yes, I have quite a bit that I’ve scrapped for one reason or another, just a minute,” she said, standing and walking over to a cubby on the wall, rummaging around for a bit, and then returning with a thick sketchbook.  “Here’s some things that I worked on while we were broken up that I just didn’t think were what I wanted to put out into the world…” she trailed off.

 

He took it and flipped through it. Several of her designs were striking. Some looked like what Markus had tried to pass off as haute couture. A lot of it was good. Ulquiorra looked up at her. “I have an idea on how to promote you.”

 

“Oh?  What do you have in mind?” she asked, excitement dancing in her eyes.

 

“I’m going to paint your sketches. I’m going to bring to life what you scrapped. I’m going to give you half of the profits,” Ulquiorra said. “It’ll be a collaboration.”

 

Her eyes couldn’t get any bigger.  “You would want to do that? For me?”  she couldn’t believe it.

 

He smiled at her. “Look at what you’re doing for me Orihime. You’re dragging me around everywhere. People are talking.” Ulquiorra tapped the sketchbook. “I would love to collaborate with you on this. You can help me. It’s a good way to make money at least.”

 

“Oh, come on, you know I don’t care that they talk.  If anything it raises my cache,” she said as an aside.  “Besides, if people know we’re together, it nips rumors in the bud.  Anyway, thank you for offering to do this, I’m so excited!” She bounced around in a little happy dance.

 

Ulquiorra’s chest filled with warmth, watching her. He liked when she was happy. He loved seeing her face glow. It made him think of things like the future and babies and living with her full time and never having to go to his apartment for anything. Sometimes, he had to restrain himself from voicing these ideas. He reached out with a hand and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him.

 

Still smiling, she put her unrestrained hand on his shoulder and kissed his mouth briefly, then pulled back to look at him.  “What is it, Mr. Cifer?” She asked, acting goofy in response to the unexpected gesture.

 

He opened his mouth and he wanted to pour all of his love and devotion out and bare it all for her to see. Instead, Ulquiorra shook his head with a smile on his face. “Thank you for protecting me.”

 

She kissed the tip of his nose.  “It’s my pleasure. Besides this way I don’t have to worry about you getting sick of spending time with me, because you don’t have a choice,” she laughed.  “Most guys would be sick of their girlfriends by now I’m sure.”

 

“Woman, I waited years to even speak to you. I waited years to find you. I will never be sick of you,” he said before kissing her slowly. After a moment passed, he broke the kiss. “ _Never_.”

 

Orihime swooned.  She laughed quietly; somewhat idiotically.  “Keep it up, Ulquiorra, and we might end up violating some student codes of conduct.”

 

He sighed and sat down on the closest stool that was nearby. “Get back to work, Inoue.”

 

“Oh, I think I am ready to pack it up for today.  I think we both need some time off. We need to blow off some steam.  Zerge is having a little party at From Dusk tonight. He’s going to be revealing the shots he took of me and Quin.  We should go. Be a little irresponsible, act our ages, well, our biological ages at least, for once.”

 

Ulquiorra nodded. “Only if you wear something that requires no panties.”

 

She smirked at him, “That can be arranged.”

 

***

 

Orihime and Ulquiorra got some dinner before going back to her place to get cleaned up and ready to go.  Orihime had wanted to wear something of Zerge’s but she only had a leather cuff bracelet with some military style badge decorations on it, so she wore that with an olive green dress that Uryu had designed and given to her.  He was planning on meeting the couple there and going to the club together, and Orihime knew that when he saw her in that dress the first words of out of his mouth would be, “No undies!” That’s how she knew she’d chosen the right dress, she thought and laughed.

 

Ulquiorra laid on her bed and watched Orihime as she dressed. He had on his standard t-shirt and jeans. He wasn’t going with her to impress anyone. She looked good but then again, Orihime looked good in anything she wore. “Do we need to go? I mean can’t you just stay here and fuck my brains out?” Ulquiorra asked, lifting his head off the bed and grinning at her.

 

Orihime smiled back as she was fixing her hair, “We could do that, but wouldn’t it be even _more_ fun to go out and tease each other first?” she turned back to her mirror before he had a chance to respond.

 

He scowled at her back. “You tease me too much and I’ll have my way with you in a dark corner. We about ready to go?”

 

“Almost.  I wanna get my hair up tonight, Zerge’s collection kind of has a military bent, hence the olive green and this bracelet,” she said, waving it in the air at Ulquiorra.  “I think an updo is a little more “Yes ma’am” than down, don’t you think?”

 

Sitting up, Ulquiorra shrugged. “I have no clue how things are done here about the military or even around the rest of the world. Aizen pretty much gave us free rein on our uniforms, except they had to be white with black trim. Some days I miss that,” he said.

 

“Yeah?  Just the color scheme? Or the sameness?”

 

“I had to impress no one around Las Noches. It was, all the same, every day. I didn’t have to choose which t-shirt I was gonna wear or what socks were clean. Sometimes this human stuff is a drag.” Ulquiorra had a half-smile on his face. “You look really nice Orihime.”

 

“Thank you, so do you,” she said with a smile, approaching the bed and holding a hand out to him to help him out of bed.

 

He grabbed her hand, tempted to pull her on top of him but she looked too nice and put too much effort into her appearance for him to mess it up. Ulquiorra allowed himself to be pulled off the bed.

 

She led the way out of her bedroom just to be met by Uryu.  “Don’t forget, no undies,” he muttered in passing. “You look totally fuckable, by the way.”

 

“The only one going to be fucking her is me and trust me, she’s bare under that dress, Quincy.” Ulquiorra felt like tearing the man’s head off and chucking it as far as he could but he knew that he couldn’t.

 

Orihime smiled at her roommate.  “Thank you, Quin,” she said, before throwing a sly look Ulquiorra’s way and looking back to her roommate.  “Things still rocky with Markus?”

 

Uryu was putting on a jacket and looked up at her with kind of a bothered expression.  “We broke up, Hime. Three days ago. Didn’t I tell you?”

 

Orihime ran to him.  “No, you didn’t! Are you okay?” she was very worried.  Markus had been his first real boyfriend.

 

“He’s been moping around here for the past three days, how could you not noticed?” Ulquiorra murmured. It was a good thing Uryu was around. Ulquiorra planned to talk to him about something.

 

Orihime frowned and looked back at her boyfriend and then returned her attention to Uryu.  “I’m sorry Quin,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to give him a hug. If you need to talk about anything, anytime, I’m here, okay?”

 

“Yeah, thanks Boo.  I’m alright. I was the one who broke it off, so I’ll be fine.  It kinda sucks being alone again, though.”

 

Ulquiorra felt like he’d been admonished by Orihime. “Sorry that Markus is a dick, Ishida.”

 

“Thanks, Ulq,” Uryu said.  “It’s partially my own fault for not realizing it sooner.  You guys ready to go?”

 

Ulquiorra looked at his lady and nodded. He was ready and Orihime certainly looked ready.


	22. A Dark Corner

From Dusk was not quite as shiny and money as Aquamarine or the other clubs they usually visited.  It was the kind of place that served American lagers in cans and allowed smoking everywhere. The walls were all black and mirrors, and even though the place was huge and everyone knew about it, it had the air of being somewhat of a small, dingy, secret spot, where you had to know the bartender to get served and the regulars hated everyone.

 

In fact there were no real regulars and this place was no more exclusive than Aquamarine.  It was only in appearances that it was anything else, but those appearances appealed to Zerge’s aesthetic in a big way.

 

When Ulquiorra, Uryu and Orihime arrived, it was only about 10:00 and the music was still kind of low-key as people began to filter in and get drinks and conversation flowing.  Orihime led the way over to Zerge’s little party and was immediately greeted by Aki.

 

“Ah, Hime darling!  How are you? I feel like it’s been forever.  You look stunning as usual. Oh! Is that Zerge’s cuff…” the older designer started chattering away at her and stole her attention for the time being.

 

Ulquiorra had met Aki before. The woman was civil to Orihime and helped her out a lot with advice so he had no problems with her. The only problem he did have- and most of the time he shrugged it off because he knew the woman was a designer - was how she eyed him up and down evaluating his clothing choices.

 

Uryu noticed Ulquiorra standing around with his hands in his pockets like a third wheel to Orihime and Aki and sidled up to his de facto roommate.  “So, how are things going with you and Orihime?” he asked, trying to be casual.

 

He shrugged. “Things are okay, minus the whole I’m being stalked by an Arrancar and am constantly paranoid. You really okay about Markus?” Ulquiorra could be civil to the Quincy. The man was letting him live there.

 

“Yeah, Markus is a primadonna who’s well on his way to obscurity.  I’m sorry you had to deal with him. I’m sorry you had to deal with me dealing with him.  He had me on edge a lot. It made me bitchy.” Uryu paused to take a sip of his drink. “I heard from Kurosaki, by the way.”

 

Ulquiorra snorted and rolled his eyes. “What did that poor excuse for a human have to say? By the way, Orihime says she owes you money,” he said.

 

“Well, technically, yes.  But I’d never make her pay me back.” Uryu answered like it was just obvious.

 

“Why not? I’m willing to pay it, within reason.”

 

Uryu smirked at Ulquiorra.  “Well, if _you_ are paying it I might as well just send you an invoice.  But I would never make her pay it because I love her.” He smiled over at the healer wearing his dress and back to her boyfriend with a look of peace on his face.

 

He rolled his eyes and then looked at Orihime. Ulquiorra was amazed that she had so many friends and people who loved her and six fucking years ago she was hung up on Kurosaki. “So what’d that murdering bastard have to say?”

 

Uryu rolled his eyes and looked down at Ulquiorra with a knowing look that made lesser men shrink.  “He wants your girlfriend. He’s pissed that you’re alive. He wants to cause problems.”

 

“It figures. He can’t have her and you can tell him that. What problems did he cause? Perhaps the one in the form of a blue-haired Arrancar? Orihime says she’s felt Grimmjow’s spirit stuff on me,” Ulquiorra sighed. “Can’t he find himself some other nice bitch to make babies with? She’s mine.”

 

“Hey, I’m on whatever side Orihime’s on and she’s on your side, so that’s what I told him.  To back off. He was not interested in my advice. And he didn’t tell me in so many words what kind of ‘problems’ he sent your way but Orihime told me that when she met Grimmjow during the last war he had changed somewhat, but not all that much.  Anyway, my guess is that your suspicions are true. That should make things easier for me and Hime though because we don’t have to freak out about every little blip of spiritual pressure; just his. And Kurosaki’s, probably. But you can’t miss that guy.  He couldn’t hide if his life depended on it.”

 

Ulquiorra chuckled. “He’s definitely trying to compensate for something,” he snorted with laughter. “Grimmjow can’t hide his either, so it makes it easy on that front. I haven’t felt that feeling since I started following you and Orihime around.”

 

Uryu nodded, “Good.  Hopefully, it will just blow over.”  He smiled as Zerge’s assistant came over and held up a magazine with a picture of himself and Orihime posing in Zerge’s new collection.  

 

“This looks fabulous, Quin!” the assistant screeched.

 

Uryu frowned.  “That’s not my name,” he started.

 

The assistant interrupted, “But it sounds badass!”

 

Orihime came over in time to hear the exchange.  “I told you, Quin. It _does_ sound badass.”

 

“You don’t get to yell at her,” Ulquiorra said with a smile. “She’s allowed to do as she wants, Ishida.” the dark-haired man turned to his girlfriend. “Wanna go get a drink, Woman?”

 

She smiled and nodded, talking Ulquiorra’s hand.  “What were you talking to Quin about?”

 

Ulquiorra glanced at her before returning his gaze to where he was walking. “Uh, just stuff. I told him we could totally be bros and bash Markus, if he was down for it. But other than that he told me that he talked to Kurosaki.”

 

Orihime burst into a peal of laughter, throwing her head back and then covering her mouth to muffle the sound despite the noisy venue.   “So is that it? You two are bros now?”

 

Shaking his head, Ulquiorra looked at her. “The man has grumbled and bitched for the past couple of nights because he can hear us. I told him to get earplugs. He doesn’t sleep much at night either.”

 

Orihime’s brows furrowed and she looked up at Ulquiorra’s profile.  “Why doesn’t he sleep?” she asked as they arrived at the bar.

 

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I figured he was either bummed out or had a nightmare or something,” Ulquiorra said. “I’ve only seen him up once while I was awake… Dreams, you know.”

 

Orihime nodded and placed an order with the bartender, then refocused on Ulquiorra.  “So what did he talk to Kurosaki about?”

 

“Kurosaki wants to have sex with you. He wants me out of the picture,” Ulquiorra mused, ticking off the subject with his free hand. “He turned his attack cat on me. He has to be the one who told Grimmjow where I was. You told me weeks--no, months ago that Grimmjow called himself the King, right? Urahara tells that dipshit to go to Hueco Mundo to deliver something to him. All of a sudden, he’s sniffing at me like a dog.”

 

Orihime sighed heavily and turned around, resting her elbows on the bar behind her.  “It figures about Grimmjow. And as far as Kurosaki goes, even if you left me again he would be about the last man on earth I would sleep with.”

 

Ulquiorra grabbed Orihime’s chin and tilted her head up so he could look at her face. He became indignant. “ _Excuse me_ , I plan to never leave your side, Woman. That asshole will have to kill me… again… to even speak to you. If anyone is leaving this relationship, it would be you. You’re stuck with me. You think after the hell I went through, I’d voluntarily subject myself to that? I’d make your life hell if you left. I’d cockblock you.”

 

Orihime laughed.  “What if I left you for a woman?”  She laughed even harder, unable to keep a straight face.

 

“I’d suddenly acquire a harem and demand to watch,” he said with a smirk. “All joking aside. Kurosaki started this all because he wants to act like a child who can’t get his way.”

 

Orihime nodded.  He was right. “Well, maybe I should just talk to him.  Set him straight. Do you think it would help?”

 

“Over my dead body, did you miss those words? He can talk to you when I’m dead. Fucking kill or eliminate, cleanse, whatever you guys do to hollows and apply it to Grimmjow,” Ulquiorra stated.

 

Orihime let it go.  She still held out hope for a diplomatic solution but now was not the time or place to talk it over.  Their drinks arrived a moment later and she led the way back to Zerge’s group.

 

Ulquiorra followed her, mulling over the information he was given. Then he mulled over Orihime’s words. He had a feeling that if he said yes to Orihime’s “talk it out” approach, Kurosaki would demand to see the woman alone and if he tried _anything_ , Ulquiorra would suddenly be in the custody of the police because he would go insane and kill the man. Once they reached the booth, the dark-haired man emptied the entire contents of his glass into his mouth and swallowed. He didn’t like the outcomes that he was coming up with; none of them were good.

 

Orihime watched Ulquiorra out of the corner of her eye and could tell that he was struggling with the realities he was currently facing.  She grabbed one of the bottles on Zerge’s table and refilled her boyfriend’s glass. “You relax tonight. I’m sticking to just the one drink so I’ll be on alert.  You need a break from worrying.”

 

He raised an eyebrow but said, “I’m being a fucking downer. Sorry, Woman.”

 

She poked him under his chin with an index finger and directed his face toward hers, standing on tiptoe and placing a leisurely kiss on his lips.  “I’m not sorry. I like my men serious and brooding,” she said with a smile after breaking the kiss. Truth be told she liked her _man_ , not _men_ , however he was.  She just wanted him to have a nice time.  She figured she could help him do that. “Hey, I’m going to go dance over there with Aki.  If you want to join me after that drink, come on over, okay?”

 

Ulquiorra nodded and watched her from where he sat at the edge of the booth. Her hips had the right amount of sway and the way that dress showed off way too much skin, it would be enough to drive him up the wall. Ulquiorra was annoyed though, so the jealousy wasn’t as rampant, seeing other men and women look at her with desire.

  
At first, Orihime was just feeling the music and getting used to being out on the floor again, but as she finished her drink, she was spending more and more time pivoting away from those who began to crowd her or tried to dance with her.  She was no stranger to this, and she was well practiced at escaping or communicating her desire to dance solo. She often found the more she got into her own rhythm, the more she would not be bothered. She began to really just go with the flow and for the most part, people were leaving her alone.

 

The more he watched and the more Ulquiorra drank, the more he wanted Orihime to be in his arms. He’d only danced with her a handful of times, other occasions, he just watched her from the table. She was holding off admirers and he had to smile every time she dodged another potential dancing partner. After his third glass of whatever was in that bottle, Ulquiorra decided that he wanted to dance with his woman.  
  
Standing up, the room didn’t wobble or spin, which was surprising because Ulquiorra knew himself to be a lightweight. His body wasn’t used to alcohol. He stared at Orihime with purpose as began to walk across the club to the dance floor, fending off advances from numerous men and women. He had just caught Orihime’s eye and motioned for her to come to him when another woman got into his way.

 

The asymmetrical bob streaked with a lighter color was at his chin, and Ulquiorra glared at the woman as she giggled. Every time he took a step to move around her, she continued to get in his way.

 

“Dance with me, mister!” She half shouted into his ear.

 

“What?”

  
“Let’s dance!”

 

Ulquiorra looked at Orihime with an expression of, ‘What do I do?’ as the other woman held his wrist. He tried yanking it out of her grasp but she seemed to have a good grip on him.

 

Orihime observed what was going on with a mix of amusement and jealousy.  Poor Ulquiorra looked affronted. She looked at him from halfway across the room with a small, pitying half-smile and then her eyebrows rose, followed by her chin.  She had an idea. The woman in front of Ulquiorra turned around and began to swing her ass in wide downward arcs toward Ulquiorra's legs, the entire time turning her head around trying to get his attention on her face.  He wasn’t having it. Instead, he had his eyes glued on his girlfriend, who mimicked the bob-haired girls action, looking over her shoulder at Ulquiorra and performing the same exaggerated hip sways for him.

 

He didn’t really like dancing, so Ulquiorra was very confused and offended that this strange woman just decided to take it upon herself to start grinding her ass on him. He glared at for her a moment before watching Orihime again. The way her hips moved he could almost imagine it was her dancing with him. He brought his hands to the woman’s waist and started circling his hips with the beat of the music.

 

Orihime narrowed her eyes, keeping them trained on Ulquiorra.  For some reason, having him watch her dance from a distance was turning her on.  She put her own hands on her waist where Ulquiorra had his on the anonymous woman, copying their movements precisely.

 

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow and smirked at the redhead across the dance floor. She wanted to play this game, did she? Orihime had to know this was going to get real intense, real quick. He slid his pale hands down to the stranger’s hips, rolling his spine, letting his lap brush against the female’s ass.

 

Orihime’s lips parted as she imagined him doing it to her, her hands trailing down to her hips and raising the hem of her dress just enough to reveal the beginnings of the soft part of her thighs as she added a slow roll to her hip sway.  Her eyes sometimes fluttered closed for a moment but would always find his again in the next instant.

 

He realized what she was doing. She was mirroring him. Ulquiorra was aware of how wrong this would be but his hands traveled up the strange woman’s arms and then over the front of her body. It didn’t seem like she cared what Ulquiorra was doing to her. His hands wrapped over the woman’s breast, waiting to see how Orihime would react to what he did.

 

Orihime’s cheeks were already flushed but her entire visage darkened at Ulquiorra’s actions.  She didn’t hesitate for more than a moment before running her hands up her body and grasping her one of her own breasts, inhaling sharply and running her other hand down her front to rest between her thighs, still circling her hips, breathing through parted lips.  She watched Ulquiorra’s reaction through heavily-lidded eyes.

 

Shaking his head, Ulquiorra pushed the other woman out of the way, ignoring the whiny protests, stalking towards his lover. She was either going to give chase or she was going to give in to him when he reached her. Lust drove his actions. Once he reached where she was dancing and still looking at him, Ulquiorra grabbed Orihime by the waist, practically picking her up. He kissed her roughly, hands sliding over her back and ass.

 

Orihime groaned as he kissed her, her own hands grasping at his arms, fingertips slipping up under the sleeves of his t-shirt. She raised one knee to slide up almost to his hip as she held to him for balance.  

 

Ulquiorra moved his hips against her, grabbing her leg. His fingers slid down her thigh and under the flimsy dress she wore, fingers brushing the skin. “Is this what you hand in mind when you said you wanted to tease me?”

 

“Something like this, not exactly,” she replied, out of breath and smiling.

 

He raised an eyebrow at her, appraising her expression. Ulquiorra wasn’t shy but he knew that whatever people caught on camera could damage Orihime’s reputation. He let his hands rest where they were. “Wanna find a dark corner?”

 

She bit her lip, and her eyebrows flashed at him.  “I thought you’d never ask,” she purred as she let her hands trail down his arms to his wrists.

 

Giving a low growl, Ulquiorra let Orihime go but grabbed her hand. He gave the club a once-over before he decided on a small booth in the far corner of the dark space. Looking around, he sat down first and then pulled his girlfriend into his lap.

 

Orihime wasted no time twisting around to kiss his mouth, threading her arms over her head and around his neck, her back arching away from him and hips pushing into his as her body faced away from him.  She wanted to feel his hands all over her.

 

Ulquiorra groaned. His hands had wormed their way under the fabric of the dress and were stroking her sides and his fingers drifted down and around her body, touching her stomach. “Woman,” he breathed, trying to take air into his lungs from kissing her so much.

 

She felt drunk, despite only having had one drink.  It was from him. Her mind was warm and fuzzy and so, so agreeable.  “What is it, lover?” she gasped between kisses, as she carefully maneuvered herself so that she faced him.  She wanted to be able to touch him, too.

 

He slid a hand over her tits, grabbing one and then the other. “I want to fuck you here.”

 

She didn’t say anything.  Her hands slid down his front and started to undo his belt and then his button and zipper.  She held the waistband of his jeans in place as he wiggled his hips slightly, allowing his cock freedom from the discomfort of the zipper.  She opened the fly of his boxer-briefs and stroked his length with both hands as it sprung free, leaning forward to capture his lips again and provide some cover for her actions.

 

Ulquiorra didn’t actually expect her to do this. He swallowed hard and pulled away from her for only a moment, zeroing his gaze on her. All she had to do was lift her dress. His hands came up and cupped her ass, fingers plucking at the material under them.

 

Orihime had her own ideas.  Very very carefully, she walked her knees up closer to the back of the booth and lifted the front of her dress so that it covered him in her hand, and then let the material fall back down.  She left one hand out and used it to cup the back of his head as she kissed his mouth, jaw, and neck with small pecks, while under her dress, she pressed his dick against her already wet slit and rolled her hips, sliding up and down the length of it with excruciating slowness as she kissed him.  She kept his head safely away from her wet lips and focused the action on the base and shaft.

 

He would have let his head drop back but Orihime had a good hold on him and was kissing him like her life depended on it. This felt good and he was in heaven but it was frustrating him slightly. He wanted to feel all of her against him, not just that liquid heat against the underside of his cock. Ulquiorra’s hand wandered under her dress and between their bodies, thumb stroking over where he knew that tiny number four to be. His hips moved against her slightly. All it would take would be lifting her up and slamming into her. He knew though that Orihime would be loud and he really didn’t want an audience for this.  

 

Orihime rolled her hips over him a few more times, but sensed his hesitation and pulled back further from his lap after one final drag of her pussy against him.  She gently pushed him back inside of his jeans and redid his zipper and belt, leaving the button undone. “Come with me,” she whispered into his ear before standing from the booth and taking his hand.

 

She led the way toward the restrooms, but walked past them and through a door that read, “employees only”.

 

Ulquiorra's eyes got wide as he saw where they were headed. His heart was already racing in his chest. His woman had teased him close to the edge of an orgasm but still, he could calm down enough to make this enjoyable for the both of them. As soon as they were through the door, the green-eyed man had Orihime pinned to it, shoving her dress up and trying to get it over her head.

 

“Wait!” she hissed, fighting against him and pulling her dress down just in time before another door opened from further down the hall.  Orihime made eye contact with a long-haired guy in his thirties dressed in jeans and a leather vest and nodded. “Hey, Sato-san, mind if I use the employee can?  The line outside is insane!”

 

The other man shrugged and replied, “Have at it, shorty,” and opened another door across from the one he had come out of, leaving Ulquiorra and Orihime in darkness again.  “Come on,”. she said pulling him to a one-stall bathroom and locking the door behind them.

 

A low growl left his throat. “We could just go home,” he said. Ulquiorra stepped back from the woman and undid his jeans and belt again, he would let Orihime dictate the speed of this. He took his cock out and stroked the length while looking at her.

 

She stood in front of the sink watching him, biting her swollen lower lip for a moment.  Then she pulled one strap of her dress, and then the other, down until they rested in the crooks of her elbows, bare breasts exposed to him.  She stood there like that a moment more, then turned to face the mirror and raised the back of her dress until it laid folded on the small of her back, her round ass sticking out toward him, and her dark, hungry eyes staring back at him in his mirror’s reflection.  “You wanna stand back there or come over here and watch how good we look together?”

 

She didn’t have to say anything else. He took the invitation, taking a few steps forward. Ulquiorra nudged her legs apart a bit more than then entered her, burying himself with one thrust. He gripped her hips, making sure she didn’t move until he was ready for her to.

 

Orihime released a satisfied, guttural sound as he filled her, watching as her breasts were thrust forward and fell back into her body, bouncing on the rebound in opposite directions and swinging slowly as Ulquiorra stilled inside of her.  She reached one hand behind her head to his cheek, directing his mouth toward hers for a brief, burning kiss, before turning back to the mirror, lolling her head back into his chest and smiling slightly, running a hand from her breasts to her throat and back, murmuring, “Yes, I think you look good in me.”

 

“I feel good in you,” he replied, looking at her in the mirror. He withdrew from her body only to snap his hips against her, moaning. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had, Woman.”

 

“I can’t say I disagree,” she grunted as Ulquiorra moved into her again, her eyes taking in the way his lips curled and his brow twitched as he did.  “Maybe you should paint this for your next show. I’d buy it,” she only half-teased.

 

He chuckled. “I’d keep all those paintings. No one else can look at your body the way I can. Open and wet for me.” Ulquiorra started moving his hips slowly watching her face.

 

“Mmm,” she moaned. “You feel amazing.”  She took one of the hands he used to grip her hips and slid it up her body to rest at the base of her throat.  He could feel her heartbeat thrumming under his fingertips. “I can only feel like this; look like this, because of you,” she said, then her body rocked back into his slightly and she bit back a loud moan.

 

He wanted to tighten his fingers against her throat, to feel that pulse directly against his own. Ulquiorra groaned as he listened to her words. His breathing hitched as he angled his hips for better friction, loving how her slick skin felt against his cock. “Orihime.”

 

“Ulquiorra,” she breathed back, nearly rolling the r’s.  “I want you to mark me. I want everyone to know I belong to you,” she panted through glistening lips.

 

She wanted him to mark her? She obviously didn’t know what she was asking. The hollow part of his brain kicked into gear. Ulquiorra brought his mouth close to her neck, breathing in the scent of her; fresh, clean and fruity. It was what he associated Orihime with. “Mmmm, lover,” he mumbled against her neck before he kissed the area and then sealed his mouth against her flesh, sucking and biting.

 

She gasped and whined at the contact, her back arching and hips desperately grinding into his.   “Ulquiorra!” she whimpered as his cock reached her cervix for a fleeting moment, causing a mix of electricity, pain, and pleasure to rocket through her.  She gripped the sink and one of her breasts, trying to find something to tether her to earth.

 

He grinned for a moment and continued what he was doing, brutally snapping his hips into her. She wanted to tease; she was going to get fucked.

 

It wasn’t long before Orihime’s naughty words devolved into mostly whines and pants and pained groans as Ulquiorra rutted over her, driving her toward what was sure to be a blinding, burning orgasm. There was a moment when she felt a prick of fear, worried that he might, in fact, rip her apart.  It was then that he lifted his face from her neck, giving her a clear view in the angry red mark on her neck. “Oh god, Ulquiorra,” she cried at the sight of it.

 

He smirked and stared at her in the mirror. Seeing her tits and how they moved; seeing her reaction to the mark he made; hearing her words. It drove him to that edge. He gave one last thrust before he felt his orgasm overtake him.

 

She felt him pulse and still inside of her and her own walls collapsed, that promised moment causing her to scream out.  She bit down hard on her lip to muffled the sound.

 

He gave a few feeble attempts at moving against her but he was spent. Ulquiorra’s body had been drained by his girlfriend. He huffed, trying to catch his breath, knees shaking.

 

Orihime held tight to the sink as Ulquiorra staggered back toward the wall behind him.  She slowly stood upright and replaced the straps of her dress onto her shoulders, the skirt falling back over her hips.  After a minute of riding out the remaining pulses between her legs, she turned to face her lover.

 

He watched as she made herself decent, following her actions. After his jeans were properly done up, Ulquiorra smirked at her. “Your hair is a fucking mess. You look like you’ve been ravished. You look like you got fucked, Orihime.”

 

As her eyes focused, she took in her boyfriend’s unsteady legs and flushed face and, smiling and shaking her head, raised her middle finger at him for a second and then answered, giggling, “I really did get fucked.”  She took a step toward him and faltered, catching herself with one hand in the sink.

 

The ridiculousness of her action made him smile but it was gone just as quick. Instantly, he was by her side, supporting her. His face showed concern. Ulquiorra should not have been that rough with her. “Are you okay, Woman? Did I hurt you?”

 

“Heh heh, I honestly don’t know.  I can say with great certainty though that you have touched places inside of me that you never have before,” she laughed breathlessly, then tried to take another tentative step and winced.  “I may be a bit sore tomorrow,” she admitted with a smile.

 

“When we get back home, you are to take a bath,” Ulquiorra ordered. He smiled at her though. “I’ve heard that I’m larger than the “average” male when it comes to dicks. Sorry.”

 

“Well, apparently what they say about it being less about the size and more about how you use it is true, because it has never felt like _that_ before,” she commented, blushing.  “Not that I have that much basis for comparison, I mean, just in general, obviously, not where the actual sex is concerned.”  She closed her eyes and cringed at her own awkwardness.

 

Why did it sound like she regretted that? His forehead wrinkled with worry. Did she want other people for comparisons? Did she want other lovers than him? Most likely not and he had told her that he would never give her up.

 

“I hope you don’t think I’m a slut or something,” she murmured, setting her jaw at an awkward angle and looking down at the ground.  “I’m really not, it’s just…”

 

“Orihime, out of the two of us, I’m the one that went out prowling Tokyo at night, looking for women to fuck. If anyone is the slut, it’s me. I’m the manwhore remember? The fuckboy?”

 

She made a pinched smile at that, although her eyes showed genuine amusement.  “Not anymore you’re not. I’ve nearly made an honest man out of you,” she teased.  “And I wasn’t talking about the number of partners, anyway. I mean… I was just so… So…. Wild.”  She blushed again, grinning in embarrassment and covering her eyes.

 

Ulquiorra grabbed her wrists and pushed them away from her. He stared at Orihime with an intense gaze. “Woman, that doesn’t make you a slut. If you are one, you’re mine and I love it. I loved what you did tonight. I’ve--I’ve never had sex in public and what you did was--” he paused. “Mind blowing. It was fucking mind-blowing and look at yourself. I marked you. I’ve never done that to anyone. When I was an Espada, we could have minions and we were supposed to mark them. I never had any. I like it when you’re wild.”

 

She couldn’t believe how perfectly compatible he was for her.  If she didn’t feel completely wrecked, she would be ready to go again.  “Well, I may have to invest in a scarf… I don’t mind showing this thing off tonight but at school…” she laughed, turning to the mirror and touching the darkening mark lightly.  “Fuck it. I’m proud of it.” She laughed.

 

“I was too rough with you,” he murmured, looking at the reflection of the mark. It was quickly bruising. If anyone of her friends saw it, they would kill Ulquiorra.

 

“You take that back, Ulquiorra Cifer.  This better not be the last one of these you give me.  That was hot. So, am I your “minion” now? Do I have to start speaking gibberish and only eat bananas and wear overalls?”

 

He had no clue what she was talking about. Ulquiorra shook his head. “C’mon, Woman. Can you walk? We need to rejoin your friends.” He looked at her for a moment. “You’ll never be a minion to me, Orihime. You’re my partner.”

 

She kissed him softly.  “I better fix my hair first.  I can meet you out there if you want,” she offered.

 

“I’ll wait for you out in the hall,” he said, exiting the bathroom. She probably wanted privacy.

 

She watched him leave and took her hair out of its updo, tying it back behind her neck in a low ponytail, then used the facilities and cleaned up a bit and walked gingerly to the hall.  

 

Giving her a smile, Ulquiorra escorted her back to the club interior. The rest of the night went smoothly except for the glares he got from the Quincy. He couldn’t help but feel an icy finger of dread slip down his back though.


	23. Passing The Torch, Fuckboy Style

His lungs burned. He couldn’t breathe. Ulquiorra shot up from the bed, covered in a cold sweat, trying to inhale as much air as he could. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong. One minute he’d been dreaming about his fight with Grimmjow and how the asshole had trapped him in a Caja Negacion. That black void. The nothing of it. The endless vast dimension. He’d been content to stand there, occasionally letting his spiritual pressure flare out so that it could weaken this dimension. It still took too long. 

 

He could have saved Orihime from ever being taken to the fifth tower. Had Grimmjow not played dirty, he would have sequestered her away in the fourth tower and shown her whatever he could. He could have shown her how much he liked to read nonfiction texts about things. He could have shown her the surveillance equipment that allowed him to keep an eye on her whenever. He probably would have gotten slapped for it though.

 

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Ulquiorra picked up the sweats that were on the floor. He knew wearing pajamas was a pointless endeavor while with Orihime. They fucked too much during the night for him to even consider it. He put them on, sliding the soft gray material up his legs and over his hips. He turned and looked at his girlfriend who was laying on her side, sleeping peacefully. 

 

Tiptoeing out of the room, Ulquiorra didn’t bother to shut the door. He didn’t hear any other sounds in the apartment. He’d use the bathroom to splash some water on his face. Maybe eat a piece of fruit or get a drink of something.

 

Why did he feel that dread again? Why did he feel so restless?    
  
It had been the same thing at that club a week ago. He’d been feeling this impending doom hurtling towards him.   
  
After going to the bathroom and wiping the sweat off his face, Ulquiorra walked into the small kitchen and filled a glass with water. He stood with it, looking out the window. The air before his eyes seem to shimmer and dance. It wasn’t possible. His eyes were tired. It was just the trick of the light.

 

“Ciiiiiiiiiiiferrrrrrrrr.”

 

The voice sounded eerie.

 

“I can see you, Cifer. You don’t even deserve that four.”   
  
Ulquiorra’s fingers tightened on the cup he was holding. He had to swallow the panic that was welling in his chest. That feeling of being unable to breathe was starting to return.    
  
“You can hear me, can’t you? You just can’t see me.” There was a barking laugh. “Piss poor excuse for a  _ former _ Espada. You’re just human. A human without any power.”

 

The dark-haired man backed away slowly from the window, turning his head, trying to discern where the voice was coming from; where it would be at. 

 

“How does it feel knowing you have to rely on a human and a Quincy to protect you?”

 

“Who are you?” he whispered.

 

“Tch, you know me, Cifer. I want to know how it feels being so weak that you’re going to die by my hands. You’re not always going to be around your two friends.”

 

“Grimmjow?” His voice shook as he spun around. He caught the barest flash of blue. It had him screaming, “ORIHIME! ISHIDA!”   
  
Immediately Orihime screamed, “I reject!”  She came running from the bedroom stark nude, her eyes scanning the room where Ulquiorra stood, her shield surrounding him despite him being unable to see it.  She stopped short when she saw Ulquiorra’s face. He looked absolutely terrified.

 

She approached him quickly but carefully, trying not to scare him more, placing her hands on his shoulders.  Uryu entered the room a second later, not even batting an eye at Orihime’s state of undress. The two friends nodded to each other and Uryu left the apartment.  Almost immediately, the heavy spiritual pressure that had flooded the room dissipated.

 

“What the fuck was that?” Ulquiorra whispered, more to himself than to her. He stared blankly at a spot on the floor.

 

“Come on, Love.  Let’s go sit down,”  Orihime offered, directing him toward the living room.

 

Ulquiorra followed her, his legs shaking. He didn’t even notice he’d dropped the cup of water. His nerves were shot. Paranoia creeped up his brain. When she sat him down on the couch, he began to rock back and forth, trying to deal with whatever just happened. His brain couldn’t process it.

 

Orihime knelt in front of him and placed  a hand on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her.  “Ulquiorra? Babe? You have to tell me what happened.”

 

“The dream. I woke up. Couldn’t breathe.” His words were short and simple. “Water. I heard him.”

 

“Who did you hear?”

 

A sad whimper left Ulquiorra. “Grimmjow. He called me weak. He said he’s going to kill me.”

 

She kissed him.  “I won’t let that happen.  I will  _ never _ let that happen.  Even if he tries, I will heal you.  I promise,” she vowed in a shaky voice.  “Come. Let’s go back to bed. I’ll stay up.  I’m going to keep my shield up. You need rest; your nerves are shot.  Please, do this for me.”

 

She was terrified at the state of him.  He looked ready to fall apart.

 

He shook his head. “No. No shield. Nothing. I don’t like it the idea of it. I can’t sleep.” Ulquiorra was getting angry. That’s what the panic was doing to his brain. “I can’t keep following you and Ishida around! One of these days you two might not be by me!”

 

“Do you hear yourself?  You sound ridiculous. Of course I’ll be with you.  I promised, didn’t I?” She rocked back on her heels, shivering.  “I  _ will  _ protect you.  You are going to get used to the idea of my shield.  It’s on you right now.”

 

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes at her. He didn’t mean to get angry at her but with everything going on in his life… She was the reason why Grimmjow was stalking him like an object of prey. “Drop it, now. He’s right. I’m a weak ass human. I don’t deserve this four. I’m a fucking poor excuse for a human. I was a poor excuse for an Espada. I died! I should have gone to hell!”

 

Orihime shook him by the shoulders.  “Do you realize what you are saying? Do you know what position you put me in by saying that?”

 

A broken sob wracked his body. Ulquiorra hated this. He got into these dreary, black moods sometimes. Usually when they happened, he turned himself into a hermit. When they happened, it was because he was under some kind of stress. He’d never been around someone when they hit. “I do realize it. You should let him kill me. He’d get his petty ass revenge and Kurosaki can have what he fucking wants and I wouldn’t be here.”

 

She didn’t even think.  It was a snap reaction. She hadn’t even known she had done it until the sting traveled from the palm of her hand to her wrist.  She had slapped him again.

 

Pain bloomed across his face and Ulquiorra looked at Orihime. “I’m leaving,” he said. 

 

“Do you honestly think Kurosaki could have me under  _ any  _ circumstances?  That that would make anything better?!  Do realize what you’re going to force me to do if you leave?” she asked, her voice low and serious.

 

“What? I’ve asked you not to use your powers on me. You know I don’t like it! Then you go and slap me,” Ulquiorra bitched. “Do you realize how fucking scared I am? I have a fucking Arrancar, the fucking sexta Espada after me Orihime. Have you seen what Grimmjow can do? He was the fucking aspect of destruction.”

 

She got in his face.  “Have you forgotten  _ everything?!   _ I  _ have  _ seen what he can do, up close and personal, on several occasions.  I worked  _ alongside  _ of him in Hueco Mundo in the last war.  We were tentative allies! You will not forbid me to protect you any more than you will forbid me to love you.  If you refuse my help, I will be forced to hunt him down and kill him myself.”

 

The green-eyed man shook his head. “You’re going to get yourself killed doing that,” he countered. “The sooner he does it the sooner everyone can go on with their lives. So what if C. Murcielago dies? I’ve done nothing to contribute to society. I’ve hurt people. It makes so much more sense than to stick around, clinging to your legs for protection, Orihime!”

 

“That is bullshit and you know it.  If you die, not C. Murcielago, but Ulquiorra Cifer, I will die with you.  I don’t plan on dying.” She huffed and walked toward the bedroom. “I’m getting dressed.  Whether you want me or not, you are stuck with me now. If you leave I’ll find you. If you die I’ll resurrect you.  If I can protect you, I will whether you like it or not. Deal with it.” She disappeared into the bedroom.

 

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. How could she even look for him? He didn’t have any spiritual pressure. Wouldn’t it be hard to do? Ulquiorra stood up and looked in the direction of the bedroom and then at the apartment door. He could totally give himself up to Grimmjow; to let the psychotic asshole kill him. One the other hand, there’d be one pissed off redhead to deal with and he’d been on the end of her wrath twice. His face still hurt. 

 

With a sigh, he walked over to the bedroom they shared and watched Orihime. “I’m just saying it’s easier this way,” Ulquiorra said.

 

“Easier for you, maybe.  What about me?” She asked in a tiny voice as she pulled on a pair of leggings.

 

“You find someone else. Kill Kurosaki… Fuck I don’t know.” Ulquiorra sighed. “I think the only one to beat him was Kurosaki. Isn’t that what happened?”

 

“No. Nnoitra did.”

 

Ulquiorra scoffed. “It figured that backstabbing bastard did. What Grimmjow said to me made sense. It has me fucking scared out of my wits, but it made sense. I have to rely on a human and a Quincy to protect me. Why doesn’t  _ your friend _ grow some balls and cut me down himself?”

 

“Because he cares about you.  He cares about you because I love you.  He sees that you make me happy. He values your talents and your ability to care for people who matter to you.  You are a good person, Ulquiorra. That is what this is all about. You are a  _ person,  _ a human.  There is nothing wrong with that.”

 

He scowled at her. If Kurosaki cared then why did he have Grimmjow coming after him? It didn’t make sense. Then it came to him; she was talking about Ishida. “Orihime, I hate to break this to you, but you’re the only person in this entire world I care about. Seven billion people on the planet and they can fuck off, except for you,” he stated. “I was talking about Kurosaki. He needs to grow a backbone and take this up with me.”

 

“You’re right,”  she said, as if she was surprised she hadn’t thought of it first.  “Maybe after all this is over, we can all have a nice campfire and hash this out. In the meantime, you need to trust me.”

 

“Trust you? I’ve been trusting you. It’s the people who surround you that I don’t trust. I’m just saying, offer me as bait to Grimmjow, let him think he’s killed me. I’d probably die but--”

 

“Absolutely not.  I am not going to watch you die again.  Not if I can help it. I have to talk to Kurosaki.  Where’s my phone?” She was starting to get frazzled now that her fight response had faded and the after-effects of adrenaline where taking over her body.

 

Ulquiorra walked into the room and over to the table that sat beside her bed. He picked up Orihime’s phone and handed it to her. “You need to calm down. Get Kurosaki to come here. Ishida has knives, right?” The way he said it was dead serious.

 

She nodded and took the phone.  She didn’t care that it was just around 2:30 in the morning.  She would call until he woke up.

 

She didn’t have to wait long.

 

“Kurosaki, we need to talk.”

 

“Yes, now.”

 

“No, get your ass over here.  You can drive.”

 

“No, in your body.”  She made a face like she wanted to gag, then swallowed hard.  “Uh, we’ll talk about it when you get here.”

 

“Yeah, bye.”

 

She looked at Ulquiorra with an unpleasant expression as she ended the call. “He’s on his way.”

 

He’d stayed silent during her conversation, not wanting to give himself away but he couldn’t help be curious. Ulquiorra had watched Orihime’s face. “What did he say?” he asked.

 

She glanced at him sidelong and answered, “He asked if this was a bootycall.”

 

“A FUCKING BOOTYCALL? IS HE A FUCKING IDIOT?” Ulquiorra yelled. He wanted to hit someone or something. The feelings of dread and uneasiness burned away. “He’s dead. He’s fucking dead.”

 

Orihime startled at Ulquiorra’s outburst but was glad to hear him talking like himself again, well himself having a justified rage fit.  “We’ll put him in his place when he gets here,” she agreed, shuddering. “Can you even believe that guy? Honestly…”

 

Ulquiorra was annoyed. All he wanted to do was satisfy this bloodlust running through his mind. It was much like the first time he’d met the asshole in Los Noches. Except for the fact he wanted to eliminate the redhead’s friends because their deaths were making her cry. Backwards thinking but it was sound logic at the time. He found his hoodie hanging in Orihime’s closet and put it on. “I should fuck you in front of him. I should. I’m not going to but--This is a pissing contest.”

 

She smirked at him.  “Hey, I wouldn’t necessarily say no… If it was for the greater good an’ all,” she laughed.  “I’m just saying, sometimes seeing is believing. Isn’t that what my favorite Espada always used to say?”

 

He raised an eyebrow at her, amused by her words. “In so many words, yes. Do you think that asshole will listen though?”

 

“We can make him listen.  He can’t break my shield unless he’s in bankai release.  He’s tried and failed. It would just be a matter of who has more stamina.  And, my power is somewhat linked to his… it’s not really clear how it works but it has something to do with the hogyoku? Anyway it seems like I have more reserve power when he is around.  Nobody is really sure why. But anyway, if he’s in his body and doesn’t have access to his battlepass, he can’t do anything against me. He can’t get out of his physical body without that little trinket.  Kind of seems like either a terrible design flaw or a brilliant failsafe, depending on your perspective, don’t you think?”

 

“Let’s hope that idiot forgets it.”

 

***

 

It was agreed upon that Ulquiorra would stay in their bedroom until Orihime called him out. The Quincy said no to Ulquiorra stabbing the orange-haired dickhead. Hopefully they’d get to the bottom of this without bloodshed or fighting. He had time to think. Orihime had asked him in the beginning of their relationship to be nice and polite to her friends, even if they were cold-blooded murdering bastards. He’d been nice to Ishida. They had a sort of friendship going on even if it was to bitch about Markus and Kurosaki. He’d gotten along with everyone Orihime introduced him to. He had been nice to Kurosaki when meeting him in that club, a couple months ago.

 

So Ulquiorra thought about it, while he searched the kitchen and then went back to Orihime’s bedroom to wait. He could continue to be civil to Kurosaki although he was scared out of his mind.

 

Ichigo showed up just before 4:00 in the morning.  He knocked and Orihime opened the door, letting him in.  “Have a seat. Do you want some coffee or something?” she offered, trying to be civil.

 

“No, no coffee.  C’mere. I haven’t seen you in a long time,” he said, holding his arms in front of him with his palms up.  

 

Was he expecting a hug?  Orihime was disturbed at the thought.  “I’ll be there in a second, I need some coffee even if you don’t,” she said as a way to get out of touching the shinigami.

 

While in the kitchen, she gave the hug a second thought.  Having her arms around him would give her the opportunity to feel around for his battle pass, if he had it.  And in all likelihood, he had it. She turned from the coffee maker to see him standing right behind her.

 

“Oh, Kurosaki, uh, -kun.  Hi. Um, I’m sorry, did you say you wanted coffee?” she asked, clearly startled by him sneaking up to her.  

 

“No coffee for me, thanks.  Why did you call me here in the middle of the night, Inoue?”

 

It was now or never.  Orihime took the two steps that stood between them and wrapped her arms around her former flame’s waist.  Carefully she raised her palms up to his shoulder blades and back down toward his waist, letting her fingertips brush the tops of his back pockets and then pulling away, trailing her fingertips over the sides of his hips and along the ridge of his front pocket as well.  Bingo. She slipped her thumbs into each of his front pockets and applied some pressure, discreetly hooking her left one into the strap of his battle pass, then pressing her breasts into his chest as she dragged the pass out of his pocket and into the front pocket of the hoodie she was wearing.

 

“What was that for,” Ichigo asked in a soft voice, his hand trailing up the outside of one of her arms.

 

“I just haven’t seen you in a long time.  Sorry I’m a little sleepy,” she offered the lame excuse as she turned around back to the coffee maker.  “So, how was your errand for Urahara?”

  
Ichigo took a step toward her again so he was standing right behind the healer.  “It was fine. Nothing special.”

 

Orihime felt trapped.  She could feel Ichigo’s body heat behind her, and even though he was in his body she could feel his spiritual pressure crowding her.

 

“I’m glad to hear it, Kurosaki-kun,” she said as she ducked away from him and to the fridge to get some milk for her coffee.  It was an excuse. She always drank her coffee black. “So, are you going to tell me why Grimmjow was sniffing around here earlier today or do I need to play 20 questions?”  

 

“He was here tonight?” he asked, not at all convincing in his surprise.

 

“Yes.  You were in Hueco Mundo recently.  Do you know why?”

 

“Can’t a guy just drop by and say hello to an old friend?” Ichigo asked, using a low voice.  He walked over to Orihime and took the milk from her hands and set it on the counter. “Is that why you’ve invited me here?  To talk about some dipshit Espada? Or was it to reconnect to old friends,” his voice rumbled low in his chest as his hand came to rest on Orihime’s cheek.

 

Orihime’s breath left her, and when she tried to answer Ichigo, no sound came out.  

 

Orihime had promised him that they would stay in the living room. From where Ulquiorra had been stationed at the bedroom door, with it open just a crack, he saw that no one was there. However the light was on in the kitchen and there were two shadows from what he could see. He knew he was supposed to stay in that room. He was supposed to be the ace up their sleeve.    
  
But Kurosaki was a devious asshole.

  
That’s why he left their bedroom. It was a good thing that he did because what he saw made his mouth turn into a fine line; his jaw clenched; his eyes narrowed. “Would the dipshit Espada you’re talking about be me or Grimmjow? That’s not how old friends act with each other, Kurosaki. Get your hands off the mother of my child.”

 

It was a lie but Kurosaki didn’t need to know that piece of information. Ulquiorra expected a reaction from his girlfriend, and he wasn’t disappointed.  Her eyes grew enormous and her mouth fell open, cheeks flushed. However, before she could speak, the substitute shinigami reacted much more explosively.

 

“ _ WHAT?! _ ,” Ichigo roared, turning on Ulquiorra, taking a step toward him with a threatening posture, before turning his face back to Orihime.  “I can’t believe you would sink so low, Inoue. And to think I was finally going to give you a chance,” his eyes slid back to Ulquiorra for a moment, “Thanks for telling me what a whore your girlfriend is before it was too late.”

 

“She’s not but even if she was a whore, she’s  _ mine _ and only mine. It’s none of your damn business. She never wanted a chance with you, Kurosaki. Why did you send Grimmjow after me?” Ulquiorra seethed. He knew where every knife in the kitchen was. He had plenty of time to find them while Ishida and Orihime talked. If the man tried anything, there would be blood.

 

Uryu entered kitchen then, worried about the increasing tensions.  “I suggest we all take a seat and have a little chat,” he said. It was not actually a suggestion.  He put his hands on Ichigo’s shoulders and started to push. Ichigo spun around ready to pound Uryu into the tiled floor.  His fist made contact with something a little less corporeal. 

 

“Dammit, Inoue, get rid of this shit,” he demanded.

 

“No.” Orihime replied in a low and steady voice.  “Go sit down. I’ve had it with your bullshit, Kurosaki.  We are talking this out once and for all. This shield stays up until further notice. Go sit at the table or in the living room now!”

 

The three men walked followed her directions without another word.

 

The green-eyed man stared at Kurosaki. “You can answer the question then leave. We can talk about this like adults. Or, you could continue to act like a child and throw around hateful words just because you can’t have what you want. I’m sure we can also somehow file a complaint with the Soul Society for your dismal behavior and abuse of position.”

 

“Oh yeah?  Is that what you’re going to do?  What are you going to do then when I tell them this one,” he pointed to Orihime with his thumb, “and you are expecting some bastard halfbreed with mystery powers, huh?  I bet that would float like a rock.”

 

“I’m human. Orihime is human. In the _ future _ we plan to have children,” Ulquiorra stated with a sly look on his face. “She may not be expecting at this moment, but she will be in the future. She’s not yours. Your touches were unwanted. You were too close. I can see you want to continue to be a sniveling brat about this.”

 

“Oh yeah right, you didn’t see her with her hands all over me as soon as we got into the kitchen.”

 

“Oh for god’s sake, Kurosaki.  I was looking for this,” she said, holding up the battle pass for everyone’s benefit, and to soothe Ulquiorra’s suspicions, just in case he had taken Kurosaki’s bait.

 

Ulquiorra nodded with a straight face. “I trust Orihime explicitly. You however would lie just to save face, Kurosaki. She had her reasons for touching you as you see.”

 

Uryu was tired.  He wanted this to end.  “So, Kurosaki. Just tell us what you told Grimmjow.  Tell us how we can get him to back off.”

 

Ichigo scoffed.  “I just showed him the pictures of Emospada and the princess.  What he did with that information is not my responsibility.”

 

“Like hell it isn’t!” Orihime shouted.  She was livid. “Why can’t you just let me be happy, for once in your life, Kurosaki!  You always kept me on the backburner and now that I’ve found happiness, you want to destroy it?  What kind of a sick fuck are you?”

 

Ichigo opened his mouth to retort but couldn’t think of anything.  He opened and closed it again, and finally blurted out, “You were supposed to end up with me, Hime!  It was always going to be you and me. You were the one who decided to go play fashion plates with Mr. Fancypants.  I saved the fucking world, remember? I deserve this.”

 

“The hell you deserve her!” Ulquiorra snapped. “You don’t deserve anything just for thinking like that. So fucking what if Orihime decided to pursue a passion instead of being a fucking housewife for you, popping out orange haired spawnlings! She’s a human not a fucking toy, Kurosaki! You don’t get prizes or thanks for doing shit like saving the world or others. Do you see me boohooing because I didn’t get a thank you for saving her? What I got was death for sacrificing my life for her.”

 

Orihime was at the end of her rope.  She walked to stand beside Ulquiorra and took his hand.  “Kurosaki, look at me. See this?” she held up her and Ulquiorra’s entwined hands.  “This is what is real. This is what I’ve chosen. He is the one who held onto my heart, not you.  _  Across lifetimes. _  You never gave me yours.  Why would you expect me to keep mine on ice for you?  That’s not how life works,so get over it. Now. Someone somewhere has leverage to pressure Grimmjow to back off.  Who is it and what do we have to do to get their help?”

 

The former Espada sighed then glanced at Orihime. “Grimmjow won’t bow down to anyone. He’s not going to stop until he defeats me. Kurosaki knows that. It’s just a matter of when and where. I want to know why he did it. Why did you alert Grimmjow that I was alive? I am human. I’m not a threat to you. Listening to your reasoning though, you do see me as a threat, something to be eliminated.”

 

“You were dead. I killed you.  You don’t get to come back and woo the princess.  That’s not how it works. You don’t get to make the sacrifice I made be made in vain.  You died. I won. You lost. There are no do-overs.”

 

“You want to talk about coming back to life? You want to talk about winning and losing? I put a hole through your chest twice. Not once but two times, Kurosaki. Who brought you back from the dead?” Ulquiorra pointed at Orihime. “This woman did. I didn’t woo the princess as you call her. I was in love with her for a long time. You don’t get to victimize yourself and play the martyr. You didn’t sacrifice anything. You came to Hueco Mundo on your own volition. You were told it was futile to fight and yet you persisted. You may have won. I may have died and lost, but I am no longer an Espada. I am not an Arrancar. I am not a Hollow.”

 

Uryu chimed in. “Not only that, but now he’s just a human. A human you are sworn to protect with your life, Kurosaki.  You don’t get to pick and choose and play god with humans.”

 

“You can’t possibly be on their side, Ishida,” Ichigo looked at his long-time rival seeking an ally.  

 

Uryu crossed his arms over his chest.  “You bet your ass I am. I am going to be Uncle Quin one day. I  _ love _ Orihime.  We may not be related by blood or by law but she is the only true family I’ve got  and I’ll be damned if I stand in the way of her happiness. You should do the same.”

 

Ichigo groaned and put his head into his hands.  “You are all idiots,” he murmured. He was not going to be convinced so easily.

 

Ulquiorra cleared his throat. “Kurosaki, we can make this painless as possible. What you’ve done is caused me to have to spend more time with Orihime and Ishida. I love my woman dearly. I’ve found the Quincy’s company to be pleasant when he’s not moping about ex-boyfriends or bitching that I’m in the way or that he can hear us fucking. You and I could be civil,” he said. “If you do not wish to be civil, you can say goodbye to Orihime right here and now because I will not allow someone so hateful to be in her life. She doesn’t need it.”

 

“Oh yeah, like you could stop her.”

 

Orihime had had it.  Uryu started giggling first.  Then Ichigo got up and started swatting around his head, saying, “Knock it off!  Make it stop! Damn it, that hurts!”

 

“I’ll stop it when you sit down and shut up and listen to someone for a change,” Orihime set the terms for Tsubaki’s withdrawal in a firm tone.

 

“FINE!” Ichigo moaned, sitting back down and covering his head with his hands.  

 

“Good,” she said as pleasant as can be. “Now then, make no mistake, Ulquiorra could most certainly stop me from seeing you.  All he would have to do is ask. He wouldn’t even have to ask. We are partners. We are a pair. We don’t step out on one another or hurt each other.  All he has to do is act uncomfortable with the idea and I would drop you like a hot potato.”

 

“It’s called mutual respect for one another,” Ulquiorra added. He turned to the woman. “Did you do the airplane thing at him?”

 

She smiled wickedly and answered in a low, seductive voice, “Yes.  Want me to do it again?”

 

Ulquiorra shook his head, “We’re trying to make friends here, Woman. At least I am trying to keep things civil.”

 

Orihime knew Ulquiorra was right.  She was being antagonistic. She took a deep breath and took the seat across from Ichigo.  “Kurosaki-kun, I’m sorry things did not work out romantically between us. I struggled with ‘what ifs” about you for a long time.  By the time you finally showed interest in me, I was over it. I’m sorry. I know how much it sucks. But I also know you can get over it.  Besides, you can’t be that hung up on me. What was it, two, three months ago last time you visited and hooked up with Yui?”

 

Ichigo chuckled at that.  “Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” he said, smiling wistfully and looking off into the distance.

 

“Oh gross,” Orihime whined, getting up from her seat.

 

Ulquiorra smirked. “You should give Yui a call. She talked about you nonstop after that night.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Ichigo perked up somewhat, then slumped again, looking at Orihime.  He sighed. “You really love this guy?”

 

“I really love this guy.”

 

“Fine.  Civil. Give me her number.”

 

“Agreed. Now, get Grimmjow to back down.”


	24. The No Good Horrible Incident

Ulquiorra has been having a good week. He and Kurosaki had made their peace with each other. Yui had texted him to say that she was dating someone. There had been no sign of Grimmjow. He also managed to avoid any of Orihime’s questions about what he said that night. It had not been easy. Whenever she started asking he’d bring up their collaboration project or he would seduce his girlfriend. When he brought up the collab, her eyes would get big, and she would bounce up and down, excited to hash out ideas.

 

He knew this tactic would not last for long. Ulquiorra knew that he would have to answer for what he said that night, eventually. He had done a lot of thinking and concluded that no one else would ever touch Orihime. No one would be intimate with her. He wanted her all to himself. He told this to the Novelist over a cup of coffee while he worked in his studio.

 

The Novelist told him he was crazy.

 

The artist did not see himself that way. He was merely protecting his heart. Orihime was his heart. She was the reason he was alive. That woman was the reason why he wasn’t rotting away in hell right now.

 

So, when he returned home taking the subway from Koenji to Orihime’s apartment, Ulquiorra planned on relaxing when he got there.

 

“Where have you been!  I’ve been calling you!” a very frantic Uryu yelled when he opened the door.

 

“What the hell, Quin? I went to my studio to paint and hang out with one of my old neighbors. I told you I was leaving.” Ulquiorra said. He knew they were going to be this way. He was tired of listening to the other man bitch. He wanted to paint in silence. He had company. No one attacked him. “I wouldn’t know if you had been calling. My phone died.”   
  
That was a lie. He had shut his phone off after the first five phone calls.

 

“Have you been in touch with Orihime?”  Uryu asked desperate hope etched into the lines in his brow.

 

“No,” Ulquiorra replied. “You told her I escaped, didn’t you?”

 

“No!”  He roughed up his hair and turned to Ulquiorra with a scared expression.  “I can’t find her. She’s not answering her phone. I can’t feel her spiritual presence.  I can _always_ feel it.”

 

Normally, Ulquiorra would remain calm, but he knew that some kind of bond connected Orihime and the Quincy. The other man could extend whatever it was he harnessed and reached out to the woman. “What do you mean you can’t feel her? She went to do something with her collection right? Did she go to work on it? What was her schedule for today? I knew I should have gone with her instead of staying here letting you play babysitter.”

 

“She was.  She was there, as usual, one minute and then she just vanished.  I don’t know what your Pesquisa was like, but for me feeling her spiritual pressure is like standing next to a flame, except now that flame has been suddenly blown out.  Either something happened to her spiritual pressure, or she left the World of the Living or worse…. Fuck!” Uryu stormed to the door and put on his shoes.

 

“Where are we going?” Ulquiorra asked, scowling. “What if Grimmjow wasn’t waiting for me to be alone? What if he was waiting for Orihime, knowing I would come after her? He couldn’t be that smart or stupid.”

 

Uryu paused.  “I can only hope he was that stupid. Otherwise, she’s already dead.” His voice cracked as he said it.  “We’re going to Karakura.”

 

The thought of Orihime being dead caused his brain to go blank. He didn’t know what he would do if that were the case. It wasn’t something he could handle. It wasn’t something he wanted to entertain. “Kurosaki or Urahara?”

 

“Urahara.  Kurosaki can meet us there.”

 

The train ride seemed to take forever, and Ishida didn’t say a word to him, except to mumble or grunt an answer to him. Ulquiorra chewed on his bottom lip, worry, and concern going through him. Maybe Orihime had masked herself. Maybe… No, he had to have faith in her. She said she wasn’t interested in the substitute shinigami. Why would her spiritual pressure just disappear?   
  
Ulquiorra mulled over several different scenarios, and none of them turned out good.

 

When they arrived in Karakura Ichigo was waiting for them with a car outside the train station, doors open and engine running.  “What took you two so long?” he asked as Uryu and Ulquiorra ran down the steps toward him.

 

“We can talk about the state of Japan Rail’s infrastructure later.  Get us to Urahara’s now,” Uryu demanded, sliding into the passenger seat.

 

Ulquiorra got into the backseat. He was sure that the Quincy could have used something faster to get himself to Urahara’s, but he had to take the train because Ulquiorra was human. “Have you seen Orihime, Kurosaki?”

 

“No, I haven’t seen her since I was at your place,” he answered somewhat distractedly as he weaved through traffic.  “Sensing spiritual pressure isn’t my strong suit either, so I didn’t notice when she went dark. How long ago was it, Ishida?”

 

“Just over four hours,” the Quincy answered in a tight voice.

 

“Shit,” Ichigo hissed.

 

“What does that mean? Why didn’t you try to find out where I was Quin when you felt her disappear?” Ulquiorra asked. He sighed. “Did you even go to the college and see if there was any residual spiritual pressure?”

 

“Of course I did.  I tracked her to her last known location.  The thing is, Ulq, I don’t keep perfect tabs on her.  She deserves some privacy. I wasn’t paying attention until I noticed she was gone.  I spent an hour looking for her all while calling you. I couldn’t find her. I couldn’t find you.  It’s as if whoever is responsible for this was waiting for this perfect set of circumstances.”

 

He knew if he said what was on his mind that Kurosaki would probably throw him out of the car. “Kurosaki? Were you waiting for the perfect circumstances?”

 

“No!  Why the fuck— What could my motivation possibly be?”

 

“I’m just trying to think of shit so I can keep a level fucking head!” Ulquiorra replied. He was almost to the point of shouting and screaming at the two idiots sitting up front. “Could it have been Grimmjow? Did you talk to him? You did tell him to back down, didn’t you?”

Ichigo looked at Ulquiorra in the rearview mirror but said nothing.

 

Fuck. Kurosaki hadn’t spoken to Grimmjow, or he had spoken to him, but the Arrancar hadn’t listened to a word of it. “This is all your fault,” he mumbled.

 

“It’s not like I have an all-access pass, asshole,” Ichigo growled.  “I’m only allowed to do things that Soul Society permits. What was I supposed to do?  Snap my fingers and make a Garganta or go to Kyoraku with the news that the former fourth Espada is playing house with the girl who is still considered a traitor to Soul Society in some circles?”

 

“Had you not told Grimmjow I was alive this wouldn’t have happened! So what if I’m alive? I. Am. Human. I have no powers. I don’t even have spiritual pressure!” Ulquiorra stated.

 

“He’s right, Ulquiorra,” Uryu interrupted.  “Soul Society isn’t an ‘innocent until proven guilty’ type of place.  Keeping your identity hidden is a priority.”

 

Ulquiorra scoffed. “You failed to mention this when my face was plastered all over Japan and in magazines.”

 

“As you said, you’re human.  You look like Ulquiorra Cifer, but there are probably a hundred other humans on earth who bear a striking resemblance.  That alone is not cause for concern. You used an alias. Urahara provides you with a cover story. On top of that, I don’t know of any other soul that has ever inherited a body as you did.  There is no reason to suspect you unless someone like Aizen or us identifies you.” Uryu set his mouth in a firm line after his explanation.

 

Aizen? Orihime had said Aizen was locked inside of a shinigami prison. Would the Soul Society let him out? “Isn’t there something in place that alerts the shinigami patrolling the area that there is an Arrancar just traipsing through the city?”

 

“Soul Society is dealing with their own internal problems.  They’re still rebuilding from the last war. It was a mess before the war, but it’s still total chaos now, even compared to Las Noches after we trashed the place,” Ichigo answered.

 

“The fact is Soul Society really only keeps tabs on the World of the Living via reports from the shinigami on patrol here. Tokyo is kind of a clusterfuck when it comes to shinigami coverage.  Nobody wants to take responsibility when their patrols areas seem to overlap. Lots of things get overlooked. I know you think I can’t sleep because of Markus or whatever, but that’s not it. It’s because I’m always on edge when the useless shinigami patrolling Shibuya is too busy bothering the Shinjuku shinigami to notice hollows on his own beat.  That means I have to pick up the slack!” Uryu was pissed off just thinking about it, but he was distracted as Urahara’s shop came into view. “We’re here.”

 

“Oh,” Ulquiorra said. He didn’t know that. He thought it was because that Quincy was distraught over breaking up with Marcus that he looked like hell every morning. “One more question before we go in there. What happens if Grimmjow did something to her, assuming he is the one that took her?”

 

“Then he dies,” Uryu said, at the same time Ichigo said, “I’ll kill him.”

 

***

 

The three men entered the shop, and Ichigo called out for the feeble old shinigami.  There was no answer. Ichigo led the way further inside, slamming sliding doors open as he went, looking for the shopkeeper.  He was sloppy in his search, and the darker haired males behind him took up the slack, sticking their heads into the rooms on either side of the hall but finding no one.

 

Finally, they arrived at a kitchen, and Ichigo stopped short, causing Ulquiorra and Uryu to crash into him from behind.  Uryu peered over the orange-haired shinigami’s shoulder and gasped. There, on the floor, lay Urahara, surrounded by a pool of blood and with a very faint amount of spiritual pressure.  Beyond the body was a large hole in the wall of the kitchen.

 

“Oh shit!” Ichigo hissed, stepping toward the shopkeeper and checking him for signs of life.

 

Ulquiorra could only stare at the carnage with wide eyes. He looked around the room for something that would tell him that Orihime had been here. ”Is there anywhere else we could check?” he asked after a few moments passed by. “What happened to Urahara?”

 

“Take a wild guess,” Uryu said, his fear causing him to act callously.    

 

“Whoever did this must have come in from downstairs.  It’s the only place that would hide the amount of spiritual pressure that it would take to incapacitate Urahara,” Ichigo said as he turned to find Urahara’s study, which held the entrance to his underground training area.

 

“What the hell is he hiding in the basement?” Ulquiorra asked as he followed the orange-haired male. “You two can’t tell me if Orihime is here or not?”

 

“Urahara’s basement is totally sealed.  You can’t detect anyone’s spiritual pressure down there.   It is the only place where you can open a Senkaimon or Garganta in the World of the Living and not get noticed.”

 

Ulquiorra pondered this for a moment. “You used this as a means to get to Hueco Mundo the first time?”

 

The Shinigami nodded.  “Yes, Urahara was somehow able to open one for us.  He did not reveal how it was done.”

 

“Hollows can rip one open. It’s basically tearing through dimensions.” Ulquiorra shook his head.

 

“Unfortunately none of us are hollows,” Uryu snarked, still not taking into anyone else’s feelings but his own.

 

“Here it is,” Ichigo said, bending over and grabbing the latch of the trap door.  “Are you sure you wanna come down here, Cifer?”

 

Ulquiorra nodded. “My woman might be down there. I cannot be a coward and stay up here. If she’s down there--If Grimmjow hurt her--I’ll die if that needs to happen. If it will make that blue-haired cat bastard go away and keep her safe, I’ll let myself die by his hands. I’ll do anything to save her.”

 

Ichigo rolled his eyes.  “Kinda dramatic, don’t you think?  She’s probably just--” he shut his mouth as he pulled the door open and was overwhelmed by Grimmjow’s spiritual pressure.

 

“Oh,” was all Uryu said, as he flinched back.

 

Immediately, Ulquiorra fell to his knees, gasping for breath. Why did he think he could take on Grimmjow when he couldn’t even handle the pressure?

 

Uryu saw his friend fall and grasped him by the arms.  “Come on, don’t stop breathing, okay? Hime would kill me,” he said, dragging Ulquiorra up and onto his back as he jumped through the trapdoor, his feet making footholds with his Quincy Hirenkyaku.

 

Ichigo pulled out his battle pass and left his body in the study, jumping behind Uryu and getting in front.  “Orihime! Inoue!” he shouted, hoping to find her before anything else happened.

 

“Tell him… to fucking… die,” Ulquiorra gasped.

 

A mad cackling laughter rang through the space. “Kurosaki, what brings you here?” Grimmjow stood on top of a rock formation. Orihime was on her knees at his feet. The Arrancar grinned like a maniac. “And you brought the Quincy. What’s that sad sack of shit he’s carrying?”

 

“This sad sack of shit has a message for you, Arrancar.  Die!” Uryu called out, setting Ulquiorra into the sand and drawing a bow.  He didn’t give any other warning before sending an arrow straight toward Grimmjow.

 

He had been so overcome with rage that he forgot Orihime was sitting there.

 

Grimmjow would have backed off the spiritual pressure but he couldn’t do that when he had fucking arrows flying at him. With a blink of an eye, he had his hand around Orihime’s bicep and there was a boom of the Sonido. Grimmjow had made his way halfway across the underground facility. “Try that again and I’ll rip her throat out,” Grimmjow yelled. “I didn’t come here to fight you or Kurosaki. I came for Cifer.”

 

Ichigo was conflicted.  He could just give Grimmjow what he wanted.  Orihime might forgive him for sacrificing her boyfriend if her life was on the line.  He looked at her and decided that was not an option. She had the look of someone ready to kill.  Ichigo was going to have to at least attempt a heroic rescue. He sighed, “Fuck you, Grimmjow,” as he drew his Zanpakuto and leveled it at the arrancar.

 

“Awww, Kurosaki, you know I like the pillowtalk but I’m not here to fight you today. I’m serious. By the way, I have princess collared with a nifty little thing the Sternfuckers left behind. I think it was them. Hell, who knows, it could even be something Granz or that asshole upstairs thought up. It basically renders those with spiritual pressure useless. That’s why she looks so pissed off.” Grimmjow once again laughed like a lunatic.

 

“Take it off of her, Grimmjow,” Ichigo growled, still pointing the sword.  He didn’t know what else to do.

 

“Go back up the ladder and leave Cifer.”

 

“No!” Orihime whimpered.  Without her spiritual pressure at full capacity, it was a wonder she was still conscious.  

 

“Where’s the key, Espada?”  Uryu demanded, his eyes dark.  He knew what this was. Without the key, Orihime would never be able to take the goddamned thing off.  Not if she wanted to keep her head attached to her neck, anyway.

 

Grimmjow’s hand shot out and grabbed Orihime by the hair this time and he returned to the original plateau he’d been standing on. “Cifer, lookie what I got! Want her back?” He waited a moment. “Cat got your tongue? Oh, wait… You’re human and I’m practically killing you with my spiritual pressure. Got it. Let’s dial it down.”

 

Ulquiorra felt that weight lift off his chest but he was still struggling to breathe. He staggered and stumbled to his feet, having to hold on to the wall. “You’re a dick, Grimmjow.”  
  
“Yeah, I am. I’ll admit it. This is what, twice now that I’ve gotten the best of you?” Grimmjow laughed. “Tell your friends to go home. I’ll kill you and then I’ll take your pretty girlfriend back to Hueco Mundo with me.”

 

“Over my dead body, Grimmjow,” Ichigo said as he charged at him in a burst of flashstep.  He wasn’t stupid enough to use distance slashes with Orihime sitting right next to the Arrancar, so he knew his only option was close-contact fighting.

 

Grimmjow knew how to play dirty. He did it all the time. He did whatever it took to win. He used Orihime as a shield, one hand around her throat and the other holding Pantera. He deflected Kurosaki’s first hit as it came dangerously close to cutting his shoulder. The damn shinigami had gotten fast over the years. “I don’t think you’re taking me seriously,” Grimmjow shouted.

 

“Stop!” Ulquiorra screamed. He was still holding onto that rock. He let go of it, taking a step forward and fell to his knees. Grimmjow had been right, he was a weakling. “Stop, I came here to save her. He can kill me then you two idiots can fight over who kills him. Just make sure she’s safe.”

 

Orihime couldn’t speak, or barely even breathe, with Grimmjow’s hand tight around her throat, but tears of protest streaked down her face.  She had promised to protect Ulquiorra, and he was intent to sacrifice himself for her.

 

She was not the only one who took issue with the current offer.  “Ulquiorra, no. Even if you die, he says he is taking her with him.  What kind of life would that be?” The Quincy looked to Grimmjow. “What do you plan to use her for in Hueco Mundo, Grimmjow?” he asked.

 

“Food? Pleasure? I don’t know. Whatever my psychotic desires allow for that day,” Grimmjow answered with a snarl. “You heard him. He wants to die. Kinda reminds me of Nnoitra.”

 

Neither the Shinigami nor the Quincy were interested in the interpersonal relationships of Aizen’s former army.  The two rivals looked at each other and nodded, advancing in unison toward Grimmjow. They reached him before Grimmjow could react, Ichigo slashing at the arm that held Orihime.

 

The screech of metal against metal was loud as their swords clashed again. The blue-haired creature lived for this. He swung Pantera, gouging out the flesh of Kurosaki’s arm just as the shinigami’s blade hit the wrist that was holding the woman. That carrot topped asshole took a gamble. Grimmjow could hear the crunching of the bone and the squelch of the muscle as it separated. Blood welled from the cut, pouring onto the rocky surface beneath their feet. His Hierro hadn’t held up against the force of the shinigami’s blade.

 

He pushed the shinigami back looking at the cut he’d delivered. “You might live, Kurosaki.”

  
A blurred image was all the three saw as Grimmjow threw the woman half way across the top of the rock formation. Then he was gone.

 

Immediately Uryu and Ichigo rushed to Orihime’s side, Ichigo asking her if she was alright, and Uryu going for the collar around her neck.  They were in luck; the key was still just sitting in the lock. Uryu turned the key and the clasp of the collar sprung open.

  
Orihime gasped a deep breath and shrieked, “I reject!”

  
Her eyes had been trained on a spot on the opposite side of the room, somewhere under the trapdoor.

 

He unleashed his spiritual pressure, then Grimmjow whistled, bringing their attention to him. He stood across from them in mid-air. In his bad hand, he had Ulquiorra by the throat. His uninjured hand poised to strike. The woman was too late.

 

He tore through the muscled yet soft surface of Cifer’s stomach easily. The muscles were nothing. His snapping ribs were trivial. Grimmjow grabbed onto whatever he could and yanked it out of his body. He could feel things - bones - crack. Then he let the man with the lifeless reptilian eyes fall from his grasp, bright red blood dripping down his arm.

 

“No!” Orihime wailed, conjuring a shield and jumping onto the surface, racing toward Ulquiorra’s lifeless body.  This could not be happening. Not again. Not now. It couldn’t. It was impossible. She rejected this reality.

 

She stumbled off her her dissipating shield and looked behind her to her two suddenly useless friends, screaming, “ _Do something_!”

 

She cast a shield around Ulquiorra’s body and stood to the side as a barrage of arrows came raining down toward Grimmjow, followed by a black crescent of spirit energy.

 

Grimmjow knew when he wasn’t wanted around. As soon as he saw the rain of arrows and Kurosaki’s infamous move, he knew it was time to go. He dropped Ulquiorra’s body and the Getsuga Tenshou hit him in back just as he was ripping apart the fake sky for the gargantua. Pain lanced through him, Grimmjow turned to see more black and blue coming at him. “See you fuckers around,” he yelled before he dove through the portal.

 

Orihime threw herself onto the ground next to Ulquiorra, carefully turning him over onto his back and bringing her rejection dome over his entire body.  This was going to be a lot of work. After what Grimmjow had put her through, she knew she would have to dig especially deep to do what she had to do. She promised him.  She _would_ resurrect him, no matter how long it took.

 

Uryu walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.  “Hime, I’m so sorry--”

 

“ _Don’t_ say that,” she hissed, then changed her tone rather business-like, “I’m going to need some food and water.  Stuff with calories. Anything. Just get it, please,” she asked.

 

Uryu nodded.  She sounded crazy.  Grief could do that to someone, he thought, as he airlifted himself out of the underground in search of the items she had requested.

 

Ichigo stood at a distance from Orihime.  “You know, he wanted this. He came here fully prepared to die for you, Inoue,” he said, trying to comfort her.

 

“SHUT UP!  THIS ENTIRE THING IS YOUR FAULT!” she screamed at Ichigo as she began to sob.  “If it wasn’t for you and your bullshit, Ulquiorra would be alive right now and Grimmjow would know nothing about him!  This is all your fault!”

 

Ichigo reacted selfishly.  “What did you want me to do about it, huh?  Just let the guy who killed me get away with it?  Forgive me that for once in my life I did something for just me.”

 

“Oh, something for _just you?_ This isn’t like getting a manicure or buying yourself a video game, Kurosaki!” she lectured through her sobs. “You directly caused his death!  If you being here didn’t increase my spiritual pressure, I would demand that you leave. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to _insist_ that you stay.  This is not a request.  If you deny me this, you will fucking regret it!”  She broke down into heaving sobs then, unable to see through the tears that coated her eyes.  

 

Ichigo knew better than to say anything else.  He walked several paces away so that he was out of her eyeshot and sat down against a rock.

 

A few minutes later Uryu returned with a couple of bottles of water and a box of crackers.  He opened them and offered them to Orihime, which she immediately took. She ate and drank about half of what he offered her quickly, and felt her power stabilize.  It was just a matter of time now, she hoped. She just had to keep trying.

 

***

 

Four hours later, there had been quite a bit of progress.  Ulquiorra’s spine had been restored, as had his blood vessels and nerves.  There was quite a bit more to be done, though. “Orihime, don’t you think you ought to take a break? Ichigo asked.

 

He should have known better.  “Don’t you think you ought to shut the fuck up, Kurosaki?!” she lashed out with all the venom she had toward him and Grimmjow combined.  Yes, she was making progress, but it was slow. Too slow. She was worried that she would be too late, and when she had finally restored his body, there would be no soul left to enter it.  She was desperate. “Please, Ichigo,” she said in a small, contrite voice. “Please come sit next to me. I need your spiritual pressure.”

 

Ichigo was shocked that she asked him for help after her outburst.  It took a moment for him to really understand what was going on. When he did, he stood and approached her.  They sat in silence and the restoration continued.

 

***

 

Warm. Fluid. He stood there enjoying the sensation. It was much like being stuck in the Caja Negacion. Where that prison box had been cold and unyielding, this was the complete opposite. Ulquiorra didn’t know that dying could be this beautiful. He didn’t know it could be this peaceful. He thought it was supposed to hurt and burn, like the last time.

 

This is what he wanted though, right? He wanted to die. He wouldn’t have to paint again. He wouldn’t need to sleep or eat anymore. He wouldn’t get to have sex again.

 

"What are you thinking?" a voice asked from the darkness that surrounded him. It was soft and tinkling. It reminded him of a child.

 

"How much I already miss my life," Ulquiorra answered. He didn't try to look for the owner of the voice. It was comforting, almost as comforting as Orihime holding him.

 

Orihime. That one name sent him reeling.

 

He hadn't been thinking. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. Ulquiorra didn't even comprehend what his death might mean to her. Her life meant more than his. She had friends that were her family. He just had her.

 

This time the voice was softer as if it knew what was going through his head. "So, you've learned. This is different than the last time you died. You’ve touched lives. You matter."

 

Ulquiorra shrugged. "No, you can never learn the true lesson of what life is trying to teach us. I got to live more lifetimes than others. I got two lifetimes with her. I'm content with that."

 

"Ah, she's reaching for you. Are you going to go with her?"

 

Ulquiorra turned his head in the direction of the golden light, feeling the warmth bathe his face.

 

"This will change you, you know."

 

He nodded. Dying several times... How could a person stay the same? "I think... I think I will go with her. I won't go to hell."

 

"It will change more than that."

 

In an instant, his eyes sprang open, that golden dome was over top of him and he sat up scrambling to get out of it. He automatically shifted his body and was gone.

 

When his feet hit flat ground, Ulquiorra gasped. That wasn't a Sonido. He wasn't a hollow. He was standing a few feet away, staring at the trio.

 

He felt a draft of air and he looked down, confused. Ulquiorra's clothing was stained and ripped.

 

Grimmjow. Grimmjow did this.

 

Ulquiorra pulled off his shirt to see his skin was fine. There was a bit of puckering where the Arrancar’s hand had entered him. Other than that, he was fine. He looked at Orihime and then the Quincy and finally the shinigami. “I was dead,” he stated. Giddiness ran through him.

 

Orihime’s mouth was frozen in an unbelieving gape, even as her body lurched.  Her hands hit the ground in front of her, but she didn’t allow her eyes to leave him for more than a split second.  He was alive! Hysterical, choking sobs overtook her as she looked at Ulquiorra, unblinking and stunned.

 

Something was building in his chest and he couldn’t place the sensation. It was a pulling or tugging inside of him. Ulquiorra looked at Kurosaki. “Asshole, get over here I need you to do something.”

 

Ichigo was also at a loss.  His eyes grew large and he looked from side to side with a confused expression for a second, before taking a step forward.  Then he paused, “What do you want?” he asked cautiously.

 

“Cut me.”

 

“What?!  No! Do you want her to kill me?  Wait, don’t answer that…”

 

Ulquiorra held up a finger and was going to answer. Instead, he laughed. “How did I get out of that thing. It wasn’t a Sonido. They make booms. Something… Inside… It’s knitting. That’s the only way I can describe it. Cut me. Quin, will you cut me? I want to test something out.”

 

Uryu had recovered from his shock more quickly than his ginger-haired friends and shrugged, nocking an arrow and sending it hurtling with surgical precision toward Ulquiorra’s forearm.

 

When the arrow struck his arm, Ulquiorra didn’t realize it would be burning hot. He hissed as the thing sliced open a gash across the top of his arm. Blood started coming to the surface. It hadn’t been a deep cut.

 

“Shit. I was wrong,” Ulquiorra said, watching as blood continued to weep out of the cut.

 

“What are you doing?” Orihime yelped, getting to her feet and approaching Ulquiorra with unsteady steps.  “I reject,” she called again. This time, Ulquiorra was able to see two tiny “airplanes” zip toward him and surround the cut on his arm with a small dome.

 

He brought his arm up and stared at the two things. Ulquiorra’s brows rose and fell in confusion. Then he saw them through the golden glow. “They’re people. You have people in your hairpins, Woman. Tiny, tiny people.”

 

“They’re parts of my soul,” she murmured.  Exhaustion was quickly catching up to her. Ulquiorra was well.  Her task was complete, her promise fulfilled. Uryu had been watching her trembling legs and anticipated her collapse.  He caught her before she hit the ground, completely spent.

 

With wonder, he continued to watch the fairies do their thing and then they were gone. He realized they looked more like stylized birds than airplanes. Whatever. It was another idea for a tattoo. He looked around and spotted Orihime lying on the ground.   


If Ulquiorra was smart and sometimes as a human, he wasn’t, he would have realized he exerted a lot of energy. He just went through some heavy trauma. He needed to rest and his body needed to heal. The first step he took towards his lover was a doozy. He blacked out and fell right on his face in the dirt.

 

Ichigo sighed. “He fell hard and fast.”

 

Uryu groaned.  “Really? Really Kurosaki?  Now you think you’re funny? Motherfu---”

 

“ _Oh shit_! Urahara!” Ichigo pulled out his phone and dialed the number he had for the Vizards who were still in the world of the living. He explained the situation and what had happened. Hiyori said Hachi would be there as soon as possible. The orange-haired male ended the call and then looked down at then two prone bodies. “Cifer better not weigh a ton.”

 

“I’m glad you have enough sense to not try touching Orihime.  Speaking of sense, did you feel it?” Uryu asked, eyeing Ulquiorra and looking back to Ichigo with a spark of interest apparent.

 

“Did I feel what?” Ichigo asked.

 

What an idiot, Uryu thought.  “Cifer’s spiritual pressure.”


	25. Reborn and Ready

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy Christmas and merry holidays from EIV and JKR!

His head was killing him. When Ulquiorra opened his eyes, he saw the faces of Kurosaki and the Quincy. Both were staring at him like he had acquired another head and started talking in tongues. “What are you two doing in my bed--” His green eyes shifted between the men.

 

“Don’t you remember our threesome last night?” the Quincy asked with a smirk, before his face grimaced.  Ichigo had punched him in the shoulder.

 

Ulquiorra choked on air after hearing that. “What? No. We did--No! I don’t even like you.” He sat up and looked around. “Wait a minute. Where are we?” These walls and the futon he was laying on did not look familiar.

 

“We are at Urahara’s,” Ichigo answered in an unamused voice.  “You have only been out for a couple of hours. I don’t like you either.”

 

“Good. Where’s Orihime? Why are we here?” Ulquiorra scowled at Kurosaki before he directed his questions at the Quincy. “What happened?”

 

“You passed out. Orihime’s in another room. She collapsed. She’s just tired.”

 

That made sense to Ulquiorra. He motioned for the two males to get out of his space. He wanted to get up. “Did anyone get to kill Grimmjow?” he asked once he was standing.

 

Kurosaki answered, “No. He was injured when he escaped. But he opened a Garganta and snuck out.”

 

He took a couple steps before the room swam and he tottered like a drunk. “Okay, it’s obvious I’m not going to be running five k’s any time soon,” Ulquiorra mumbled. “Someone take me to her.”

 

“C’mon, Cifer,” Uryu said, putting his arm under his temporary roommate’s shoulder.  “I’ll take you to ‘your woman’”, he laughed.

 

A few dozen shuffles of his feet later, Ulquiorra was sitting beside where Orihime lay. She looked exhausted. “She’s going to hate me when she wakes up,” he said. He lifted his head and turned it as if he were listening to something. “There are eight people here with spiritual pressure.”

 

“Eight?  I only sense six,” Kurosaki mentioned.

 

“She’s not going to hate you,” Uryu spoke over the shinigami.

 

“That shouldn’t be your concern, Kurosaki. The fact is that this town is teeming with spiritually aware humans and I can feel them. How do I know this?” Ulquiorra sighed and took the redhead’s hand. “Yes, Quin, she will hate me. She told me not to die or how would my death affect her… Something like that. I did it anyway.”

 

“You should know her well enough by now to know that she is very forgiving. You survived.  Nothing else will matter,” Ichigo grumbled.

 

Ulquiorra scoffed. “You don’t sound very happy that I’m alive — no matter. You’re both idiots. Why did you put her in danger? Why didn’t you come up with a plan to capture him?”

 

Ichigo scoffed back, but it was Uryu who answered.  “Don’t you know? She’s her own boss. We can’t tell her what to do.  I think you’ll be sorely mistaken if you think otherwise. As for a plan to capture Grimmjow, he kind of had us bent over a barrel.  He was using Hime as a human shield. Would you have preferred that we let her be collateral damage?”

 

“What did she do to me? Why can I tell that Kurosaki is weaker than you, Ishida?” Ulquiorra turned his head to look at the two men.

 

Ichigo looked offended as Uryu took on a smug expression and answered, “I don’t know, but your spiritual pressure is something else.  I’ve never felt something quite like it. I don’t know if Orihime told you, but my sensitivity toward spiritual pressure is unrivaled.  I felt yours when you were an Arrancar. It’s not the same now.”

 

Another nod. Ulquiorra then sighed and thought about what happened. He had died. He knew that much. Something had happened to him. How much time had passed between when he died, and Orihime had healed him? “I’m not quite human either.”

 

“I don’t know about that, Cifer-san,” an older voice said as he was wheeled into the room.  “Your body is quite human. That alone dictates that you are human; just as much as Ishida-san and Kurosaki-san.”

 

“Urahara, how did you…?”  Ichigo trailed off, looking at the shopkeeper like he had seen a ghost.

 

“Hachigen is a professional,” is all the shopkeeper said, eyeing the young shinigami with a dark smile before turning his attention back to Ulquiorra.  “I imagine you must be feeling very confused.”

 

“Somewhat,” he answered. “What happened to me? Why would I--How did I--” Ulquiorra sighed in defeat. Words were escaping him. “Did my death cause this or was it Orihime’s powers?”

 

“It is curious, isn’t it, Cifer-san?  I am afraid we may never know the details.  I could run tests if you’d like, but I very much doubt the results would be definitive.  You see, your first rebirth was an anomaly. To come back again, and to be resurrected by Inoue-san…  There is a lot of mystery involved. However, I suspect that it was a combination of things. At any rate, the how isn’t as interesting as the what.  Do you sense it, Cifer-san? Your new abilities? Your new frequencies? It appears that Inoue-san has imparted some gifts to your soul.”

 

When he thought about it, after Orihime had healed Kurosaki the second time he gained a new power, it was in the form of a more powerful Vasto Lordes, but still. It was a power that the shinigami had not previously possessed. “I was able to use Sonido… or something like it. I can detect spiritual pressure. I could feel my body healing but when I was cut,” he paused and held up the arm that Ishida had cut with his arrow. His arm was fine. No cut marred the surface.   


“You have got to be kidding me,” Ulquiorra stated, staring at his arm. "I don't think it was Orihime's powers that did this."

 

It was Ichigo who reacted most strongly.  “What the… humans can’t regenerate! I can’t regenerate!  It’s not…. How come he gets it, and I have to go to squad four like the rest of the plebs?”

 

Urahara chuckled.  “Who knows, Kurosaki-san.  We can’t have everything. You have more than one shortcoming, by the way,” he said under his breath.

 

“He has an entire book of shortcomings,” Ulquiorra said, with a smile. “I want to file a complaint with Soul Society by the way. Why would they let an Arrancar survive, especially one as dangerous as Grimmjow?”

 

Urahara smiled in a paternal fashion.  “Cifer-san, a truce has been made between Soul Society and Hueco Mundo, and by extension its leadership.  Grimmjow attacking you does not negate the alliance. You’re going to need to keep a low profile if possible.  It’s not in your best interest to attract the attention of Soul Society. They are not paying very close attention to the world of the living these days. It would be completely possible for you to escape their detection until the end of your natural life.”

 

Sighing, Ulquiorra looked at the older man. “How long will that be? Another couple of years? I don’t plan on being detected by them. What would happen anyway? I think Kurosaki killing me the first time would be punishment enough for my past crimes.”

 

“Indeed.  Your crimes are not what would interest Soul Society.  Your mystery would interest them, especially the research division. It would be best not to raise their curiosity. There are plenty of spiritually aware humans in the world of the living. There is only one, to my knowledge, former Espada who stole a corpse and shed his power. The long and short of it is that you _are_ interesting.  You do not want to be interesting. You don’t want to wave a flag and announce your former affiliation with Aizen.  If a complaint is really what you want I can lodge one for you, on your behalf, as a human who is friendly with Kurosaki-san.  I would not advise getting any more involved than that.”

 

He turned a level gaze at Kurosaki then shook his head. It wouldn’t be good to file anything with Soul Society. They’d come sniffing around, and he’d probably share a cell with Aizen after it was all said and done. “I’m a freak of nature then… You don’t know what caused my soul to inhabit a body. You don’t know why I suddenly have powers.”

 

“I have my suspicions, but that’s all that they are.  Unless you are able to find the realm of God and ask that being yourself, or unless the same thing that happened to you were to repeat itself, allowing me to study it as a replicable phenomenon, we will never know definitively what caused you to come into being as you are. In the end, does it really matter? It is what it is. You can’t change it. Would you want to?”

 

“I wouldn’t change it ever. I would never want to go back to what I was before. I just wish I could go back in time to meet Orihime sooner. That’s the only thing I would change,” Ulquiorra said.

 

“Well, you haven’t missed much time, Cifer-san,” Urahara said with a good-natured chuckle.  “Inoue-san is what, only 23 years old? She has just come into her prime as a human. Let me look at you,” he said, narrowing his eyes and looking the green-eyed man up and down.  “It appears your body is that of a young man, probably mid-twenties as well. You both have your entire lives ahead of you. I think your timing is perfect,” he finished from behind his fan.

 

***

 

The men left him alone in the room with Orihime. Ulquiorra laid down next to her, propping his head up with his palm, watching how she breathed and how the muscles in her face moved to various expressions. “Orihime,” he said after some time had passed.

 

She smiled in her sleep, tilting her head toward him a bit.

 

Ulquiorra brushed her face with his fingers. “Woman, wake up. I miss you.”

 

“Hmm?” the soft vocalization flared her nostrils as her eyes fluttered open.  Her smile stretched wider across her face. “Good morning, Love,” she murmured as if it was just another day, rolling toward him and burying her face into his chest, only for her breathing to level out into slow, steady draws again as she drifted back into sleep.

 

He wasn’t going to complain about this but he had to wake her up. “Orihime, it’s not morning. I think it’s closer to evening. We’re also not at home.”

 

“Huh?” her voice vibrated into his skin.  She rubbed her brow into his shirt and then slowly pulled her head away.  “Where are we, then? Why am I asleep?” She looked completely disoriented.

 

“Urahara’s. You and I both collapsed after what happened with Grimmjow,” he gently explained.

 

“What?” she asked before things slowly started coming back to her.  Her eyebrows rose as she rolled onto her back, a palm coming to rest on her forehead as she was assaulted by the memories.  Her eyes slid over to him in a disapproving way. “You died. I told you not to die.” She held the stern gaze for a moment but relented with a smile after only several seconds.  “Ah well. I told you I’d bring you back, didn’t I? Ye of little faith…”

 

Ulquiorra gave her a disapproving look. “I told you not to, and yet, you did. So we’re both even. You did something to me. Your spiritual pressure is--” he didn’t want to say she was weak, but it could be due to the fact she had spent a good portion of the day healing him. He decided to reveal this new development in a different way. “I saw your fairies.”

 

Her eyes widened in delight.  “I _thought_ you smelled different!” She grinned and propped herself up on one elbow.  She put a hand on his chest and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, her eyebrows lifting and her cheeks appling.  “It’s you! It’s you, but it’s a little me,” she said with amusement. “You saw my fairies? Were they nice to you?” she asked, opening her eyes.  She was beyond excited, despite her state of exhaustion.

 

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. How could he smell different? This situation was becoming more and more bewildering. “Can they talk? They didn’t say anything but hovered above my skin and then disappeared. That happened right around the time you passed out. Orihime, what did you do to me?”

 

“I rejected your death.  I rejected the damage to your body.  While I do it, my spiritual pressure flows through your body.  I suppose it infused yours with mine somewhat. Also, perhaps I rejected some of the loss of your original spiritual pressure; I can feel a bit of Espada in you.  It’s not all me.”

 

Ulquiorra huffed. “I told you not to do that. I think I can teleport. I can tell who has spiritual pressure. I think I can regenerate too, but I’m not going to test that. You freaked out enough the first time.”

 

“What do you mean?  And don’t tell me not to…” her brow knitted as she recalled seeing him dead.  Her chin dimpled and her eyes became mostly closed. “Don’t expect me to live without you,” she whispered, her lower lip getting sucked back into her mouth as her breath hitched.

 

Shit. He’d put his foot in his mouth again.  Ulquiorra leaned over and kissed her softly. “Woman, I wasn’t thinking when I said it, I know that. Still, I’m nothing to get upset over.”

 

“You take that back.   _Nothing to get upset over._  How would you feel if I died?  Huh? Would you just brush your hands and say, “Welp, nothing to get upset over, move along?”

 

Ulquiorra had time to think about the answer to this question. He knew he would upset her with the answer, so he stayed silent.

 

“Well?”  She wasn’t going to let it go.

 

“If you died, I was going to find that drug house.” Ulquiorra looked away from her.

 

She closed her eyes and exhaled heavily.  She didn’t like his answer, but she didn’t judge him for it.  It was no worse than what her own response might have been had she been unable to save him.  “Well, you don’t have to,” was all she said, at first. Then she pulled back to look at him with a somewhat wry expression, “you mean you wouldn’t jump at the chance to resume your old life as C. “Manwhore” Murcielago?”

 

His mouth formed a straight line. “Woman, you’re the only one I wanted. You’re the only woman I need. Everyone who came before you was a paltry and poor substitution. If I can’t have you, I would rather not be here.”

 

She smiled a sad, little smile.  “There it is. Your feelings are the same as mine. See? You are most definitely something to get upset over.”  

 

“I’m not but we can agree to disagree on the subject.” Ulquiorra looked at her the frown still on his face. “What happened this morning?”

 

She shook her head, displeased with his dismissal of her feelings. Nevertheless, she decided to let it go for now to address his question. “You mean when Grimmjow took me?  I don’t know. I was at school, leaving to go get a coffee across the street. The next thing I knew I felt his spiritual pressure, but it came at me too fast. I had my shield starting to go up when he put that collar on me.  Then, he… He acted like everything was normal. He just walked down the street with me pulling me none-too-gently by the arm until we were away from people, and then he used sonido to take me here. Without my spiritual pressure I was not able to stay conscious for more than a second when he used sonido.  When I came to I was laying in the sand downstairs. I couldn’t really talk or anything, he wasn’t trying to mask his spiritual pressure at all.”

 

Ulquiorra’s eyes took on a murderous expression. His lip curled into a sneer. “Hopefully Grimmjow won’t bother us any longer. He probably thinks I’m dead and gone. I went to the studio this morning to paint and when I came back Ishida was going crazy. He said you were gone and I wanted to panic but couldn’t. Our feelings about each other may be the same, Orihime, but you have much more to lose if you were to die. I only have you.”

“You don’t know, do you?” she smiled and touched his cheek.

 

He leaned into her touch and nuzzled the palm of her hand with his nose. “What don’t I know?”

 

“How much you already mean to the world.  Not only to me. You have people who care about you.  Quin would be at a loss if you died. Bereft, even. Your neighbors would be devastated.  Yui would mourn you. You have so many people who need you,” her eyes filled with tears. “And I…  I would not survive your death. Not again.”

 

He had to blink several times in order for tears not to fall from his eyes. Ulquiorra sniffled, burying his head in her chest. He hadn’t expected her answer to impact him like it did. He felt her hands running through his hair and down his back. “Why me?” he asked after a few minutes.

 

She squeezed his head to her chest and then tilted his chin up to look at him.  “Because you are a beautiful soul. You dazzle me. You overwhelm me with the depths of your ability to feel and to touch me.  I feel complete when I am with you. When we are apart I am at a loss. You believe in me. You see me. You make me whole. You are the sun in my sky,” she paused to kiss his brow.  “The handsomest man I ever met,” she kissed his cheek, “And the fiercest too,” she kissed his other cheek and squeezed his shoulders, sighing in contentment.

 

Tears came to his eyes again. This was not how the fucking fourth Espada acted, but then again, Ulquiorra was no longer one of those. He wasn’t a Hollow. “Orihime…” He was at a complete loss for words. He didn’t know how to tell her how much he loved her or how devoted he wanted to be to her. “I love you, Woman. I want to live with you forever.”

 

She held him tighter.  “I want that, too. I love you, Ulquiorra.”

 

“Would it be in bad taste to fuck your brains out here or should we wait until we’re home?”

 

“Honestly…” she groaned in disapproval.

 

“What? You know what I mean when I say fuck. I mean I want to worship your body and I want to give you as much pleasure as I can. Calling it love-making makes me turn red,” he mumbled this last part, looking up at her.

 

“Get over it.  You could use a little education on romance…” she grumbled, looking away from him.  She didn’t loosen her hold on him though.

 

“I know what romance is,” he said, stretching his neck far enough to kiss her chin. “Is that you want? Flowers, chocolate, sweet nothings whispered in the middle of--” Ulquiorra paused as he felt his face become hot. “Making love.” He laughed at himself. “I do love you. Don’t get mad at me because I’m trying to lighten the mood of the events today.”

 

She shook her head at his lame attempt and sat up, swinging her legs out to the side of the futon.  “Hmm, it seems like everyone is still here.” She sighed. “ _He_ is still here.  I’m still mad at him,” she said, not expecting a reply but putting it out there.  “He did help me save you though, in the end…” Her eyes widened. “No… No way…”

 

Orihime climbed back onto futon and walked back to Ulquiorra on her knees, putting a hand on each of his shoulders, closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath.  “No freaking way!” she said again with an incredulous laugh.

 

“What?” Ulquiorra asked.

 

“Um, your new and improved spiritual pressure… it is infused with mine, as we talked about.  It almost smells like you stole a bit of me and incorporated into you, which I find incredibly sweet, by the way.  But... I’m not the only one you swiped spirit juice from,” she said, laughing, clutching her side, completely blown away by the irony.  “Guess who else has a new power buddy?”

 

A groan left him. “Don’t tell me it’s Kurosaki. I will go play in traffic if it is.”

 

“Okay, I won’t tell you,” she said, still giggling.


	26. Butting Heads

 

Urahara insisted that Ulquiorra stay for several days to run some tests. The artist did not want to do that but after Urahara explained some things about souls to him, he decided it would be worth it. They needed to make sure that his soul chain was unbroken and test out his “powers”. Was this whole powers thing going to be trouble? He had this nagging feeling in his gut that somewhere down the line it was going to come back and bite him on the ass.

He could tell the scientist was eager to ask questions and take samples. Ulquiorra wanted to decline his requests; he wanted answers, but then again he didn’t. If he had answers, that meant he had some connection to Kurosaki. There was no way in hell he wanted to be in any part of that asshole’s life. The first day of captivity was spent in some kind of laboratory. Blood was taken from his arm, a hair sample. Urahara made him urinate into a cup and then came the big thing.

“I need a sperm specimen,” the ex-shinigami said.  
  
“What? Why?”

“I’m going to see if I can clone you.”  
  
“Fuck off,” Ulquiorra said. “If I’m going to have kids, I’m making them the natural way, thanks.”  
  
Then he was poked and prodded by Isshin, Kurosaki’s dad. He sat in an exam room and found out everything there was to know about him. He was about twenty-four or twenty-five. He was five-feet-eight-inches tall. His heart beat faster than normal humans. His body temperature was slightly higher than Orihime’s. His lungs sounded clear.  
  
“Okay, I’m going to need you to take your pants off and--”  
  
“Nope, hell no. I’m done with this, you fucking perverts today with your bullshit--”  
  
The doctor burst out in laughter. Then explained to Ulquiorra about checking his testicles. It was something for cancer. “You can pee on a pregnancy test and if it’s positive, you might want to see a real doctor.”  
  
“You’re not a real doctor?” Ulquiorra asked, wondering what the hell kind of place these people in Karakura operated.

“I’m a real doctor but I just run a clinic. I meant a hospital.”  
  
The last thing the man checked was his eyes. A bright light was pushed into his field of vision. Ulquiorra squinted against the brightness but kept his eyes open for this strange test.  
  
“You have vertical pupils.”  
  
“Yes, I had them when I was a hollow.”  
  
Isshin nodded. “You were an Espada?”  
  
Ulquiorra scowled for a moment. “Yes, I killed your son twice.”  
  
“You clearly failed in that endeavor,” Isshin whispered loudly. That made Ulquiorra roll his eyes.  
  
As far as the doctor could tell his eyes were shaped just like a reptile’s or a cat’s. It didn’t make sense though. “I turned into a bat. I was a huge fucking bat.”  
  
“Well in this life, you’re not Bruce Wayne,” the doctor said as he packed his things and left.  
  
The sun was setting when he finally stumbled into the room Orihime was sitting in. She had been urged to stay there to because of her collapse. Ulquiorra figured she stayed because of him. He thought it was a sweet gesture but he didn’t deserve it. He flopped down beside her and then studied her for a moment. “I don’t want to ever go to the doctor’s again,” he told her.

“That bad, huh?” She chuckled, looking down at him.  “Anything to report? Can you shoot a bala or transform into a unicorn?”

“I am a healthy mid-twenties male who has funny eyes and Urahara wants to clone me. I declined. So far nothing strange about me physically,” Ulquiorra said. “Tomorrow we’ll be testing powers and I don’t want to. I don’t want Kurosaki or the Quincy in there while I do this. What if they’re against me?”

“Well I can’t speak for Kurosaki but I know Quin isn’t bothered by you.  As far as them being present, leave it to me; I can always find a way to distract them,” she answered, waggling her eyebrows at him.

Ulquiorra sighed. “We will find out tomorrow how good I am. I’m hoping you gave me awesome destructive powers… At least enough to wipe the smirk off Kurosaki’s face.”

She pulled her lips back to show her teeth in a display of uncertainty.  “Knowing my skill set, I wouldn’t count on it… But you never know!” she smiled, trying to be encouraging.

 

***

 

The next morning dawned too early and too painful for Ulquiorra. He wasn’t used to sleeping on the floor. Orihime must have already woken up because she wasn’t in the room. Standing up he stretched, feeling his joints pop and protest the movement. He moved out of the room and followed the voices down a hall. He found his girlfriend and her friends sitting there with others that he did not know.

“Ah, Cifer-san! You’re awake! Would you like something to eat--”  
  
“No,” he stated in a flat voice. “I just want to get this over with. Can’t Orihime fight me instead to test this out?”

Ichigo got to his feet with a bit of a lazy swagger in the movement.  “Oh, you want to fight? Why not pick on someone closer to your own size?” he challenged, stepping between Ulquiorra and the woman.

Ulquiorra scowled. “That’s not what I meant but I know that you’re just itching to fight me, again,” he stated. “I know Orihime would test me, instead of trying to maim or kill me.”

Ichigo scoffed.  “She couldn’t hurt a fly anyway.  It’s no way to test out new powers, against some namby-pamby glitter dome.”  He craned his head around toward the seated female. “No offense, Inoue, it’s just you know you are useless in a fight,” he said, trying to act nice but failing.

The glare deepened. How dare this idiot insult his girlfriend like that. Orihime said she had helped Kurosaki during the bullshit with the Soul King. The orange-haired shinigami had not said anything to the contrary. He had just said he’d saved the world once again… Ulquiorra thought he was exaggerating but it wasn’t his place to knock Kurosaki off his pedestal. “If you would actually support _your friend_ ,  you would realize she’s not useless, asshole. She brought you back to life twice.”

Orihime stood from the table and sighed.  “It’s no use, Ulquiorra, but thanks for trying.  She walked out of the room, slapping Kurosaki upside the head as she walked past, hissing, “Dickhead,” as she left the room.

“What the hell is wrong with her,” Kurosaki grumbled as he watched her stomp out of the room, eyes glued to her ass until he was smacked in the back of the head a second time, this time by Ishida.

“Incorrigible,” the tall black-haired man muttered as he followed Orihime out of the room.

“You’re an idiot. If you think you’re going to kick my ass--” Ulquiorra started to say but was cut off by Urahara.  
  
“Let’s not throw threats around. We need to see what you can do first before we test your limits.”

The green-eyed man nodded. He agreed with this assessment but he didn’t like the idea of Kurosaki knowing what he could do. It just seemed like it would be too easy for the male to go blabbing his big mouth to the supposed king of Hueco Mundo. “Alright, I’ll go talk to Orihime and we will meet you down there.”

When Ichigo finally got to the underground training area, he immediately used his battle pass and stepped out of his body like he was peeling off a smelly shirt.  “Ah, this is more like it,” he said with an appreciative hum, flexing his spiritual pressure just to show off a bit.

Orihime rolled her eyes from her position further afield.  “What a douche,” she commented to the dark-haired men standing on either side of her.

Ulquiorra snorted with amusement. “Woman, listen, if this gets out of hand, I don’t want you coming to help. Just stay back with Urahara whenever he gets down here, okay? I can take care of this myself. After all, you’ve given me some gifts.”

Orihime’s eyebrows pinched.  “If it gets really out of hand I’m stepping in.  I can’t let you die again right after I saved you.  I don’t know how many times you can respawn,” she said with a nervous chuckle, not looking at him.

“I asked for at least five lifetimes,” he said with a smirk. He caught the sound of her laughter and it didn’t sit well with him. “No matter. I’m going to defeat Kurosaki and then I’m going to take on the Quincy.”

“You don’t say?” Uryu said cocking an eyebrow at Ulquiorra.  “I’d like to see you try,” he said, turning his face back toward Kurosaki and smirking.

“You pussies have all day to sit around scheduling your next brunch or are you going to come at me?”  Ichigo taunted.

Ulquiorra turned from the female redhead and faced the male one with a deadly expression on his face. Urahara wasn’t down here yet, so he was just having a verbal bitchfest with the man. “You’re just as childish and immature as you were six years ago.”

“Tch, I’m surprised you even remember, Ulquiorra.  I bet it stung watching your girlfriend choose me over you back then, didn’t it?”

Oh no, he fucking didn’t, Orihime thought.  “Fuck you, Kurosaki! If you hadn’t—“ she was cut off by Urahara.

“Is everyone ready? We’ve already come to the conclusion that Cifer has the power of detecting spiritual pressure. He moved with flash step the other day,” the blond man said. “Kurosaki seems to think you are able to regenerate at a high speed. So Kurosaki, please draw your zanpakuto. Cifer hold out your arm. I want you to cut him, don’t take his arm off, understand Kurosaki?”

“Yeah, fine,” Ichigo grumbled to Urahara before glancing back to Ulquiorra.  “Come on Cifer, which one do you want me to cut? The one with the bat or the one with the _precious little_ _heart_?” he taunted with a coddling voice.

Ulquiorra looked at Kurosaki and sneered. There was no way in hell he would allow the man to cut him. “Neither, the only part of my body that isn’t marked is my back. Tattoos cost money and I will not tolerate you ruining them.” He stared at the man as he took off his shirt throwing it back to where Orihime stood and turned around. He didn’t trust Kurosaki but he wasn’t about to let the man ruin all the art that he had dedicated to Orihime.

“Ulquiorra, no!  What if it’s like…  What if the same rules apply as when you were an Espada?  I can always restore a tattoo. I don’t know if I can restore your liver twice in as many days!” she whisper-shouted.

Ulquiorra gave her a flat stare. “He’s just going to cut me, Orihime. That’s it. If he stabs me I’m going to rip off his head,” he stated. “Do it Kuro--”

He didn’t have to wait.  It was as if the shinigami had moved before Ulquiorra had given the word.  A spray of bright red blood fanned out behind Ulquiorra. “There you go, buddy,”  Ichigo said with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest and looking pleased.

Pain erupted and Ulquiorra fell to his knees, hissing at he felt warm liquid spill down his back in a diagonal line. It reached from his shoulder to the waist of his jeans.

Orihime lurched forward, about to call on her fairies.  Uryu had quick reflexes though, and grabbed her by the elbow, clamping a palm over her mouth.  “No, Hime. You know better,” he cautioned.

It took several minutes but Ulquiorra could feel his back itching. It was uncomfortable and almost unbearable he wanted to twist his arms to where he could reach that skin and tear it off. It took about four minutes for the cut to completely heal itself and he had a nice pale scar dissecting his skin.

Urahara nodded and wrote something down on a clipboard. “I wouldn’t call it high speed but you can definitely regenerate,” the shopkeeper stated.

“Are you done?  What about the scar?  Do you want me to…?” Orihime trailed off after Quin let her go.  Ulquiorra had thrown an unamused look in her direction.

“I’m fine,” he managed to groan as he got to his feet. He then turned a baleful glare at the shinigami. “Ready to get your ass kicked, Kurosaki?”

Ulquiorra regretted those words.

It only took seven minutes for the orange-haired man to leave him bruised, bloody and panting on the other side of the basement. Ulquiorra could see Orihime, she had her hands covering her face and it looked like she was crying. So far he had no powers to attack nor did he have any to protect himself. What fucking good was he? He was about as fucking useless as his girlfriend--Shit. He shouldn’t be thinking that.

He huffed several breaths out of his mouth as he struggled to get to his feet, leaning against a rock that had been split in two. He glared at the shinigami. “Is that all you got?”

Again, he regretted that sentence. Three minutes later Ulquiorra had a cut going across his chest and Kurosaki looked pissed off. That black zanpakuto was raised and just as he was about to bring it down for another slice, Ulquiorra shouted, “I reject!”

Orihime said that her power had been thought focused or something. If she wanted to protect something she just yelled, i reject. The same thing he had tattooed on his inner wrist. The woman could shrink and expand her golden domes at will. She even said she had an attack that was better than the one she had tried to throw at Yammy.

What Ulquiorra produced was a fucking joke. The small diamond-shaped shield was small and barely a foot wide. The black metal broke through it, like a knife through softened butter. That sharp blade stopped several inches from his face. Ulquiorra could only stare at the yellow-tinged shield that was between him and the other man. Orihime had put that barrier up between them for the second time.

The first reaction to seeing the woman standing several feet away was relief but then irritation washed over him. The relief was there because she possibly just saved his ass from a painful death. The irritation came because she interfered with their fight once more. Had she never brought Kurosaki back to life the first two times he wouldn’t be laying on his back feeling his entire body start that insane itching that made him want to scream. He narrowed his eyes at her and then turned them on Kurosaki as he got to his feet. “Really? That’s really all you got? You’re holding back, aren’t you? All talk and barely any action. That’s what Yui said.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the injured man, walking toward him slowly. He pointed to his sword and said, “You know that all I would have to do is wave this thing at you in Bankai for you to be obliterated, right?”  His voice became more menacing and quiet as he got closer. “We couldn’t have that, could we? Poor Yui would be devastated if her _one true love,_ ” he used the coddling voice again, “was to be cut down in the prime of life.”  He paused as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Ulquiorra, then turned his face toward his ear and whispered, “Besides, I think my chances of fucking your girlfriend will be significantly impaired if I murder you in cold blood, so there’s that.”

Ulquiorra managed to give the dickbag a side-eyed stare. Something in Ulquiorra’s face must have turned dark as he lifted his hand, fingers curling. A jet of emerald green energy shot out from Ulquiorra’s finger. It quickly wrapped around the shinigami’s throat and all the green-eyed man did was curl his fist. That reiatsu tightened around Kurosaki’s neck. “You’re not fucking touching her. You’re more of a fuckboy than I am. All you want to do is use her!”

“Kurosaki?” Uryu called, beginning to worry, as the shinigami’s face began to take on an unnatural color. “Ulquiorra, let him go!” The taller man demanded, striding toward the other two.

“Ulquiorra, what’s going on?” Orihime called out.  “What is that thing?”

He said nothing; he just kept tightening his hand, staring at the other male. He was turning purple. Ulquiorra watched Kurosaki’s face and then finally sent the man flying with just a flick of his wrist. It was satisfying watching that shinigami fuck fly into a rock wall.

Ichigo lay there for a good half-minute before he was able to shake off the impact and stagger to his feet.  “What the fuck was that?!” he roared, picking up his legs and shaking them off one at a time before rolling his shoulders.  “Ow, goddammit!” he yelled, as he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder. “Inoue, a little help here?” he asked, expectantly.

“Go fuck yourself, Kurosaki,” she said, loud enough to be heard across the grounds but not loud enough to be considered a shout.  She redirected her attention toward Ulquiorra and approached him carefully. “Is everything alright, Babe? What was that thing you just did?”

Ulquiorra brought whatever he just did back to him, staring at his hand with wide eyes. Then he glanced at Orihime. Babe? She knew he didn’t like pet names. He shook his head to brush the irritation away. “I asked you not to intervene, Orihime!” Ulquiorra stated.

She blanched.  “I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t just _let_ him cut you down!”

“I had it,” he said to her, gaze flickering to his hand and then back at her. He started walking past her, ignoring Kurosaki, who looked pissed off. “QUINCY! It’s your turn!”

Uryu looked somewhat amused.  “Ok, do you want to go like that or do you want to get cleaned up first?  I’m fine either way,” he said, his eyes darting to Orihime for permission for a split second and back.

Orihime’s eyes said, in no uncertain terms, “Leave him alone.”

Uryu was never really one to wait for permission, anyway.  He jumped into the sky and prepared a bow, grinning down at Ulquiorra.  “Last chance, you get five seconds to change your mind before we find out just how fast you are,” Ishida crowed.   He was excited like a kid at Christmas to put Ulquiorra through his paces.

This time Ulquiorra wasn’t so lucky. He tried using that thing again but it wouldn’t manifest. He found himself pinned down with Quin aiming for him. It didn’t matter where Ulquiorra went with his flash step, Ishida was right there. After another arrow singed the skin of his arm, the green-eyed man said, “I concede. This is getting me nowhere.”

Uryu was slightly disappointed but allowed his bow to disappear as he descended to the ground.  “Next time I want you completely healed. That was impressive but I could tell you were fatigued,” he said good-naturedly.  His vision crossed Orihime’s for a moment and his good cheer evaporated. She was incensed. He was the reason.

Orihime wanted nothing more than to throw a dome over Ulquiorra and fix him, but after his most recent outburst, she was reticent.  She felt impotent. It was frustrating. She turned her back on the scene and walked several paces and then returned to her spot, clenching her teeth and waiting for someone to change the atmosphere.

“Come on, Inoue!  This fucking hurts!” Kurosaki whined.

That did it.  “I reject!” Orihime shrieked, but instead of a dome manifesting over the shinigami, a small object that looked like a golden paper airplane streaked across the grounds and sliced through the shinigami’s robes, cutting him across the chest in the same place as Ulquiorra had been cut.

Ulquiorra was going to nod at Quin but heard Orihime’s scream. He turned around and stared at the flare of light that whizzed by him. She was attacking Kurosaki. “Woman!” In an instant, Ulquiorra was by her side. “Stop! What the hell are you doing? I asked you not to get in between this!”

Orihime furrowed her brows at him.  “How can you say that to me? How do you expect me to stand here and watch this and not get involved?  Are you sidelining me too?” Her eyes shone with tentative hurt as if his potential answer held the power to destroy her.

“Orihime, this was to test our my powers. I would never sideline you. This is between Kurosaki and me though,” he answered. Ulquiorra sighed. Why was she doing this? “You gave me your word that you wouldn’t do this. I asked you not to get involved. Call it back, and heal me please.”

“I said no such thing,” she grumbled, calling back Tsubaki.  “Get comfortable; this will take a while,” she said, muttering, “I reject,” in a quiet voice and allowing a dome to form over Ulquiorra’s body.

“Bitch!” Kurosaki ground out from across the way.  Orihime ignored him. “I’m next,” he demanded.

“Whatever,” Orihime replied, staring at her hands.

Ulquiorra turned a violent stare towards the injured man. “You don’t get anything Kurosaki. Heal… Normally.” As soon as he was done, he studied Orihime. “I’m sorry. I’ve waited years for a rematch against that fucker. I just wanted to do it on my own.”

She sighed.  She understood.  Kind of. She didn’t _really_ understand but she understood male pride as a foreign concept.  She nodded and let her eyes meet his for a brief moment. “I’m sorry,” she said.   “I can’t watch next time, though.”

That sucked but he nodded. He had been a somewhat skewed cheerleader for her in Las Noches, trying to build her up from a logical sort of way. He had expected that much from her. “It’s fine,” he replied. “Urahara? Are we free to go?”  
  
“Eh, would you be willing to stay one more day? I’d really like to get a reading on your soul. Do a few more tests,” Urahara said.

“Woman? Do you want to stay? I know I do not. I want to get back to my apartment.”

“Are you sure?  You seemed like you wanted to go round two just a minute ago,” she hesitated to say.  Of course, she wanted to go home and get away from this place that held nothing but bad memories, but she didn’t want to take this opportunity away from Ulquiorra either.  “I can stay if you want to fight more.”

He shook his head. Quin was right, he felt exhausted. Whatever he did with his hand seemed to drain the energy right out of him. “I can always come back and arrange a fight between Ishida and myself at a later date.”

“Okay,” she said, putting her hands behind her back and stretching by bending backward a bit

“Oh, Inoue-san,” the shopkeeper's voice interrupted the quiet conversation the lovers were having.

“Yes, Mr. Urahara?”

“It would be a shame if something were to happen to Kurosaki-san while out on patrol because he wasn’t at his best,” the shopkeeper allowed the brim of his had to fall lower onto his brow, causing his eyes, and coincidentally, his voice, to darken, “the citizens of Karakura depend on him for their safety, you know.  It’s still a hotbed of hollow activity here.”

Orihime’s eyes met Ulquiorra’s.  They weren’t looking for permission.  They were looking for a way out of the shopkeeper’s ‘request’.

“He can call upon the _plebeian_ Squad four,” Ulquiorra snapped before he grabbed his girlfriend by the waist and blurred out of sight. When his feet touched the floor upstairs, he set Orihime on down. “Gather whatever you brought. I’m taking us back to my place as soon as you’re ready,” he said. Aggravation was traveling up his spine. He didn’t know what was more annoying. The shopkeeper's blatant manipulation or Kurosaki’s derogatory word he had used. It was possible that the orange-haired shinigami meant the term for Ulquiorra. If he meant it for Orihime then that would just make things that much more complicated. He knew if he killed Kurosaki then he’d be in a shitstorm of trouble.

Orihime grabbed her purse.  That was all she had brought; it’s not like Grimmjow had given her a chance to pack before kidnapping her.

When she returned, Ulquiorra opened his arms to her and left the building using flash step. It took very little time in returning to Koenji and his apartment. He said very little to the woman as he opened the door, allowing her to enter first.

She walked into the space, setting her purse on the counter and collapsed into a chair.  “Thanks for the ride home, mister,” she said with a half smile as he entered the room.

Ulquiorra looked at the redhead before nodding. “What did you do to me, Orihime? What was that power? How do I use it?”

Ok, he was not in the mood for friendly chit-chat, apparently.  “The small shield looks like it is similar to what I can do; I could help you learn to use it. The other thing?  The vine thing? I don’t know what that is. It may be a part of your own soul that I awakened.”

“That “shield” was a joke. I couldn’t protect anything with that. It was--” he took a moment to pause before he said something that would absolutely set them back months. “Thank you for healing me today.”

“You know I would do it anytime you need it,” she said hesitantly.  There was something he wasn’t saying, she could feel it. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“You gave me--I can use hollow powers. I can use shinigami powers. What the fuck kind of power do you have? What’s the label I slap to myself?” Ulquiorra asked, his scowl becoming more evident.

“You’re a spiritually aware and gifted human.  There are lots of us. Some of us,” she gestured to herself and Ulquiorra, “are more powerful than others,” she explained.

He could not stop the scoff that came out of his mouth. “Tch. You call having the useless “gifts” I have powerful? I am weak compared to you. If I were to walk into Hueco Mundo I would probably be eaten by a Menos. That’s how weak I feel.”

“Uh, how about you don’t go waltzing into Hueco Mundo anytime soon?  Anyway, a weak person wouldn’t have dislocated Kurosaki’s shoulder. How did you do that?  It was amazing!” she was excited to know how her boyfriend had managed to incapacitate the shinigami.

“I don’t know. All I know is I’m angry. I’m pissed off. I’m irate. I was thinking about killing Kurosaki. How I wanted to strangle him. He told me that he wouldn’t kill me in cold blood because the chances of fucking you would diminish. As if he has a fucking chance. You’re mine,” Ulquiorra snapped. He wanted to go back to Karakura town and rip out the other man’s throat. “He’s the one who called you a whore, yet you’re still on _friendly terms_ with him.”

“I am not!  I _attacked_ him today,” she said, attempting to defend herself from Ulquiorra’s accusation.  “There are sometimes when I am forced to rely on him, like when Grimmjow kills you. That’s it.  That’s as far as it goes. He and I are _not_ friends.  And you’re right, he has no chance.”

Ulquiorra walked over to where she sat in the chair in front of his desk. There was a turmoil of emotions going through him. It was difficult for him to sort out who had triggered what. He wanted to snatch her out of that seat and kiss her to exert his dominance; to show Kurosaki that this redhead was all his and the man would have to kill him before he’d give her up.  
  
There was annoyance at Orihime only because she couldn’t tell him what powers she had unearthed or tell him how to utilize them. They seemed pretty fucking pointless. He could tell where the big baddies were. He could move really fast. He could bring up an itty bitty shield that was laughable and perform a one-time choke hold.  
  
Orihime could see the turmoil in his eyes, and his proximity was making her nervous.  “What?” she stuttered, looking up into his intense, troubled face.

 He wanted to ask if she was afraid of him but he’d probably get the same answer he had time and time again. “I don’t like how he looks at you. I don’t like how he talks to you. Doesn’t he understand I will end his life if he were to touch you?”

“I don’t know what _he_ thinks,” Orihime said.  “And frankly, I don’t care,” She was feeling kind of offended at the implication that she might let the shinigami touch her.

Green-eyes studied her face for a moment before he took several steps back. He was satisfied with her answer but the anger at her so-called friend was still there. “After fighting and doing that thing, I’m exhausted. I know you probably have things to take care of, but do you mind coming to bed with me?”

She watched him carefully as he spoke.  Clearly he was shaken up and emotional. With any luck he’d see things more clearly in the morning.  “No, let’s go,” she said, standing and making her way to the ladder.


	27. JFC, Again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Oops.

When Ulquiorra woke up, the sun was setting, and Orihime was nowhere around. Things were confusing. In the span of less than a week, he had died, been brought back to life then found out he was once again some spiritually aware being. He was practically useless though. Kurosaki had bested him only for his girlfriend to save him. It was humiliating, to say the least. He felt hurt, like a lion wanting to be left alone to lick at his wounds.

It was irrational to think this was Orihime’s fault. She couldn’t pick and choose which powers he ended up with; most likely if it were up to her, he’d remain a plain old, boring human. The thought riled him up.

Did she think that he was some kind of “damsel in distress” that needed saving? He wasn’t.

Did she want him to be human so that she could feel powerful in their relationship; like she had some kind of hold over him?

Although he couldn’t even be on par with Kurosaki or Ishida, Ulquiorra was confident he could still swing a katana around. He didn’t need any kind of protection anyway. Grimmjow wasn’t a threat anymore. The former Sexta Espada probably figured him to be dead. He rolled over and found his phone, staring at the screen. Text messages from Quin and Kurosaki were waiting to be read.  
  
They could fuck off.

A sigh left him, sounding incredibly heavy. His body felt tense and irritable. Just thinking about the orange-haired male made him irate. Where had this jealousy come from? Never in his life--well, his human life-- had he felt the urge to kill someone over a woman. As an Espada, that had been a different story.

He’d overreacted as an Arrancar. He couldn’t stand that the redhead had constantly been crying. It seemed like sound logic at the time. Orihime would stop crying so much if her friends were dead.

That same “logic” didn’t seem so sound, now.

When Orihime awoke beside Ulquiorra only over an hour after falling asleep, she felt hungry and uneasy.  She went to his kitchen and looked around. Finding nothing, she decided to take the stairs and head over to the convenience store.  

While she was there, she spent some time flipping through fashion magazines on the rack, trying to kill time and distract herself. Why was she doing this?  She had always been anxious to return to Ulquiorra whenever they had been separated. What was different about today?

She looked at a wall of refrigerated meals, but her mind wandered back to Ulquiorra’s apartment.  What had caused his outburst before? Clearly, he had been upset at what the shinigami had said about trying to fuck her, but that wasn’t all of it.  It wasn’t just jealousy. There was anger directed at her, and she didn’t feel she deserved it. She had just brought him back to life! She had given him spiritual gifts!  They might not be on par with what he had as an Espada, but neither was she! She stewed as she picked out some food and drinks and brought them to the register, stopping to get some ice cream too.

When she reached his apartment building again, she was tempted just to keep walking.  She didn’t like this feeling. She loved him. She wanted to be where he was. She didn’t want him being mad at her though, and the more she thought about it, the more she was sure that he was, and the madder it made her. She didn’t feel that he was justified.

The twelve flights of stairs helped.  By the time she reached the ninth floor much of Orihime's mounting irritation had been replaced by fatigue.   She couldn’t dawdle, though; she had ice cream in the plastic bag she was carrying. She kept pushing up the stairs and only paused when she heard her phone chime.  She took it out, expecting it to be Ulquiorra asking where she was or Quin, but it wasn’t. It was Pauletto’s assistant, telling her to check her email for a message from Pauletto.  As she reached Ulquiorra’s floor, she had finished reading the email. Her eyes had widened when she scanned it; Pauletto was offering her a modeling contract for a new line he was producing for a major international retailer.  He wanted her to travel to locations around Japan and abroad to photograph the new collection. It wouldn’t be a long-term gig, just a couple months, but it would mean being away from home and school a lot. Then she read the bottom line; it was a very lucrative opportunity for her.   She sighed as she turned off her phone. There was no way she would be able to leave Ulquiorra for as long as Pauletto would need her to be gone. She’d write her regrets to Pauletto later.

She slipped her phone back into her pocket as she opened the door to Ulquiorra’s apartment, using her key.  “I’m back,” she called softly into the quiet room.

He had just opened the bathroom door, fresh from a shower when he heard the apartment door open. It seemed like a natural reflex to align his body into a defensive stance, but when he heard her, he quickly relaxed. Ulquiorra shuffled over to the kitchen doorway and stared at Orihime. He had done more thinking in the shower.

Had she given him more hollow powers on purpose? What was the balance? Why couldn’t she tell him anything about what she did or how her powers worked? His face remained passive. “I thought you had left.”

“I went to get some food.  Are you hungry?” Orihime asked, holding the bag where he could see it. She acted like there was nothing else to it.

He nodded. “I’ve been staying with you, so there was no reason to keep food here,” he stated. Ulquiorra studied her for a moment then frowned. “Woman--” He didn’t know what to say to her. He didn’t know how to explain to her that he was angry about her defying his wish to die.

She set down the bag.  Something was wrong, she could feel it.  “Please tell what is bothering you?” she asked, her brows knitting in concern.

So she had noticed. “I’m pissed off. I know you brought me back because you can’t live without me, but I made a choice. You rejected my death and gave me useless powers. In that basement, I didn’t need your help. If Kurosaki was going to kill me, so be it.”

She couldn’t believe what he was saying.  “Why would you want to die when you could live?  Why would I let Kurosaki get his way? Why would I allow my lover to die when I could save him?  What you’re saying doesn’t make any sense to me,” she said. She sounded confused and hurt because she was. Her anger was dampened as a result.

“Orihime, has it ever occurred to you that I’m tired of being a human or that I am tired of this existence? I’m tired of Kurosaki and his bullshit. I’m tired of Quin and his bitching. I’m tired of feeling all these emotions and having to sift through them. If I don’t understand it, I have to look it up.” Ulquiorra scoffed. If he wasn’t making sense, it was simply because he didn’t understand any of it either. The most prominent emotion in his head was that his pride was hurt. “I can’t even protect myself.”

“That’s where I come in; I can help you,” she offered.  She didn’t understand what it was that caused this outburst.  Her assistance had never been an issue in the past. Why was it now?

“You can help me? How? By emasculating me? By allowing me to be humiliated in front of Kurosaki? Poor Ulquiorra can’t fucking kill anyone, better save him!” His voice was getting louder. “At first I was happy to be alive again, then I was poked and prodded. I was beaten and bloody… For what? Some one-time party trick?”

“What?  How can you say that?  You know your worth is not in your ability to kill someone.  I love you. You’re a successful artist… Who cares about that oranged-haired dick?  I’m sorry about all the testing and the fighting, but we don’t have to go back there,” she said, her voice reedy and a bit desperate.  The tone he was using was not one he had ever directed toward her before. It was different even from the time at the hospital. She knew he was ramping up to something even worse.  She hoped to talk him down but the look on his face as she spoke only darkened.

“Even as an Espada, I prided myself on not needing anyone. I’ve had to depend on you and Ishida to keep me alive,” he stated. Ulquiorra turned from her, the anger he was feeling becoming more and more discernable on his features. “I absolutely despise Kurosaki. I loathe him, Orihime. Yet, he comes around, and everything is cool although he called you a whore and has repeatedly tried to bed you while with me. Then he says he won’t kill me because then you wouldn’t fuck him. How is that supposed to make me feel? I don’t need your protection.”

Orihime’s mouth opened and closed.  She couldn’t believe what he was saying to her.  “I understand you hating him. I hate him too…” She didn’t know what more she could do to convince her boyfriend that she had no love for the shinigami.  She had attacked him earlier that day! Her face started to show her dismay, her eyes flitting between his, searching for any sign of warmth or affection left in them.  She couldn’t find what she was looking for. “Ulquiorra…” she couldn’t finish. She didn’t want to know if he had decided he didn’t want or need her anymore.

“Why don’t you stand up to him more? Why don’t you push him away instead of insisting that he’s needed when he’s not? Even with Ishida, you have a backbone! When I called you a whore, you told me to get out. Kurosaki says it and no repercussions there.”

“Because I no longer care enough to engage with him.  And yes, he _was_ needed, unfortunately.  I was running out of spiritual pressure.  He has a lot. If I hadn’t tapped into it, I might have died.  As far as the “whore” thing goes, of course, I don’t care what he thinks of me!  I don’t care about him or his opinion! I _love_ you, Ulquiorra.  Your opinion has the power to destroy me,” she whimpered.  Her premonition that things were only going to get worse was getting to be overwhelming.

She loved him? He had the power to destroy her? It was preposterous! “I love you too, but you put yourself first instead of looking at the big picture. You're putting all your happiness on me, and I’m not responsible for all of it, maybe a portion of it but not all of it. I chose to go into that thing Urahara has. I made a choice to die, to sacrifice myself again. What we have--Orihime, I’m more obsessed, controlled and captivated by you. I am infatuated with you. I’m fanatical when it concerns you… Is that love? Is having sex with each other love? Is constantly wanting to be around you because you cause a blissful feeling in my head, love?”

“I think so,” she answered, her voice wavering.  She felt like the walls were closing in on her and she was having a hard time taking a normal breath.  “Ulquiorra, what are you trying to say to me?”

“I think we need to step back and reevaluate things. Ever since I came to under your dome, I’ve felt trapped,” Ulquiorra replied. “I’ve lost myself. I’m no longer C. Murcielago the artist. I’m a model. I’m erasing who I was to fit in more with your life. I’m not a social creature. I’m not cordial. I don’t want to kiss people’s ass to get anywhere in life. I didn’t become the fourth Espada by kissing Aizen’s ass. I got there on my own merit and power alone. I didn’t become a semi-famous artist by kissing anyone’s feet. I got there by talent.”

She was silenced, scanning the floor for over a minute, hoping her brain would find something to salvage their relationship.  She came up empty. If he didn’t want to be with her, there was nothing she could do. She looked up at his face, and it only confirmed what she knew: she had already lost. Still, she couldn’t accept it.  “Are you… are you breaking up with me?”

That question stopped him for a moment, and he turned just enough so that he could look at her. His shoulders rose and then fell in a shrug. “I am not sure if I want to break things off with you, but I need time to assess this new me. I need--” Ulquiorra paused. Things would have been easier if he had just stayed dead. “I’d like to pause our relationship, if possible. Only temporarily. I need to think about what makes me happy instead of making you happy. Thinking about the future and other things like that, and then losing myself as an artist--It goes against what I had taught myself in the past four years. Right now, you’re suffocating me.”

She didn’t know what he meant.  She understood self-reflection, but she didn’t know why they had to be separated to do it. Unless… She remembered.  Part of his “finding himself” before they were together included lots of sleeping around with nameless women. Is that what he meant?  She would suffocate him by tying him down to her? “Are you saying you want to be free to see other people?”

“If that is what you wish, you may do so.”

Now the tears came.  “I don’t!” Orihime turned away from Ulquiorra, not wanting to have an audience to her crumbling.  “I don’t want any of this,” her shoulders began to shake. She took the key to his place out of her pocket and set it on the counter.  “I don’t want any of this,” she repeated in a whisper as she let it go, then straightened up and walked to the genkan, sniffing and clearing her throat.  “There is ice cream in that bag, so you should either eat it now or put it in the freezer,” she said in as close to a normal voice as she could, then bent over to tie her shoes.

“Orihime,” Ulquiorra began. His face remained with the same blank expression as he spoke. “I need to find my place again. I didn’t have you around when I woke up as a human, and I found my place in this world. I need to learn how to adapt to this situation. I cannot do that if you’re around in a romantic or sexual sense. I would just push everything that defines me to the side. If you’re around me in that sense, I can’t possibly divide my time between you and what I need to do. However, if possible, I would like to be friends, for now.”

She stood and reached for the door, then screwed her expression up into a tortured smile and looked over her shoulder at him.  “I understand. You have to do what is best for you. I don’t know if I can be friends with you, though. Friends don’t love each other the way I love you.  I won’t be able to stand by and watch you move on from me. I’m sorry.” She turned back to the door and opened it and stepped out, closing it softly behind her after whispering goodbye.

 

***

 

He forgot to put away the stuff in the bag. It sat there for a couple of days while he laid in his bed, thinking about what he had done. Ulquiorra didn’t really leave his bedroom except for a drink of water now and then and to relieve himself. Eventually, the rancid smell brought him to the kitchen.

The woman he employed to clean his apartment wasn’t due by for a few more days. He didn’t want to attract bugs or the attention of the other tenants in the building so, he decided that maybe be needed a change of pace and began to clean up things. It didn’t take long before he was back in his bed.  
  
Maybe he needed a bigger change of pace. This apartment had memories of Orihime all over it. This place had memories of them infused into the wood floors and brick walls. She was all over him. She was all he thought about, but he was right, at least he thought so. He was obsessed with her which was very different from being in love with her.  
  
A week passed by and he would find himself sitting in his office chair staring at the three easels that were set up. Each had a replication of Orihime's designs on it. It hurt to see them. They were the only ones done out of the seven paintings he had planned to paint for her.

He wanted to talk to her about the project but knew the moment he texted her she would either ignore it or run. She was like that. Ignore or flee. What happened to her will to fight? He knew the answer to that… well, he could guess, anyway. Her friends had pushed her to the side so many times that she accepted it.

Why couldn’t she allow him to die? Wouldn’t her life be better without him in it? He caused a lot of strife in her world for the several months they had been together. Being with him would only hurt her status in the end. He would say the wrong thing to the right people, pissing them off. He knew how those people worked.

Kurosaki kept texting him with taunts and jeers about him losing and Orihime having to help him. The man was a dick. Ishida didn’t message him once. Yui started blowing up his phone with texts.

Ulquiorra took a deep breath, and turned back to his computer, touching the mouse and then bringing up his calendar. He had an art show in a month. He had several pieces ready, but they were uninspired pieces. He didn’t even feel like picking up a brush to work on any other pieces. Unless he wanted to include Orihime’s design in this show, he would have to get off his ass and work.

 

***

 

Orihime had never forgotten what happened to her after their first breakup.  The heartache had almost killed her, until eventually, she was numb, and then angry, and then focused.  She had never been so productive in her life as she had been during that time.

This time, she decided to skips steps A, B, and C and go directly to focused.  More specifically, re-focused. Before she even made it back home, and before she even read all the details of the offer, she had written back her acceptance to Pauletto.

It was only later she found out where she would be traveling around for two whole months to take photos.  She was scheduled to go to places around Japan like Sado Island in the north and also abroad. Thailand and Russia were on the list.  If her goal was to keep busy, she had fallen into the right project.

While they were busy with Markus and their own collections, Orihime and Uryu had overlooked Pauletto’s rise to significance.  The man was usually jovial and carefree, at least in his affectations. That he had been quietly working on launching a line of clothing for a major international retailer with a cool factor to match its bottom line came as an impressive surprise to the pair of roommates.  

Naturally, Ishida was jealous of the opportunity Orihime was being given.  It seemed very unusual that a girl with her body type would be chosen to be one of the faces of Pauletto, but he later learned that although Pauletto was serious about Haute Couture, he also was business savvy, and he was designing this line to appeal to people with varying body types.  Orihime was short and curvy, but she also had proportionately long legs and delicate bone structure. As Ulquiorra had said to her before, she was a tiny work of art. She was a perfect addition to the stable of models Pauletto had in his employ for this project.

Despite all this - the mad dash to get her passport and visas in order and to make arrangements for the schoolwork she would miss, setting meetings with Pauletto’s people about schedules and expectations and social media obligations she contractually obligated to fulfill - she still found time to think about Ulquiorra.  Every time she closed her eyes she saw his. Every time she walked into her bathroom and saw his shampoo in the shower, the one that smelled of cedar and eucalyptus, her heart would twist. She hated this. She hated missing him, knowing that she could walk to his place in Koenji with her eyes closed and see him. He wasn’t dead, but with the complete separation he imposed, he may as well have been, and she grieved for the loss of the relationship.

The second Sunday after she had said goodbye to him, she decided she had to clear her space.  She was scheduled to leave the following Wednesday. She went to a shop and bought a large cardboard box and a couple of small travel-sized plastic bottles.  She returned home and started packing Ulquiorra’s belongings as she packed her own bags.

He had left a surprising amount of things at her place.  It took her several loads of laundry to find all his used t-shirts and boxer briefs.  Of course, she stopped to smell each shirt before she reluctantly threw it into the wash, slowly erasing the evidence that he had ever been part of her life again.  She hung the clean clothes to dry as she packed up the items in the bathroom, taking a little bit of his soap and shampoo and keeping it in the small bottles she had bought.  She knew there would come a day that she couldn’t remember his smell anymore, and the thought broke her heart. She needed something to refresh the memory. The bottles were her answer.

He had left sketch pads and a binder of photographs he had taken in her room.  She sat and looked over each one as she waited for his clothes to dry. She took pictures of some of the sketches with her phone.  She knew it wasn’t helping her to move on. She didn’t care.

When the clothes were finally dry and put away along with everything else, she did the thing she was most dreading.  Taking out her phone again, she started a text to Ulquiorra:

 

  * _Hi, I hope everything is going well with you.  I’ve put together a box of your things that I thought should be returned.  It’s mostly clothes and stuff, but you also left some sketch pads and photos here that you’ll probably need.  I’m leaving on Wednesday so if you can’t get it before then I can have it delivered, or you can make arrangements with Quin to pick it up. Let me know what works for you, okay?  - Orihime._



 

***

 

When the text came in Ulquiorra was sitting on the floor, moping. His mood was dismal. His inspiration was gone. Maybe Orihime had rejected his artistic ability and his muse.  
  
He shook his head.

He had done that himself when he told her he needed a break. It was stupid. Scrambling for his phone which was on his desk, he stared at her words. She was leaving! Where was she going? Was this permanent? Was she going to come back? Why would she tell him this?

His fingers started tapping out a message before he could even come to terms with this information.

 

 _\- What? Where are you going? Do you have to leave? I mean, c’mon Orihime… this is a break from each other, not a_ breakup _._

After he sent that one off, he quickly sent another.

 

_\- I’m okay. Miserable but okay. You?_

 

He sighed and flopped down into the office chair and waited. She would text him back, right? She had to. Now that he read each of the texts he sounded desperate and somewhat clingy.

She received his reply _much_ faster than she anticipated.  It raised the alarm in her head.  She read the first, and before she had finished reading it, the second came.  

Was this the same man who watched her leave almost two weeks ago?

She was worried.

 

  * _Are you drunk?_



 

She realized it might come across as harsh, so she wrote another message.

 

  * _I’m going away for a job.  It’s a modeling gig for Pauletto. I don’t know how I am.  Trying to keep busy, I guess. Sorry about asking if you were drunk, you just sound totally different from before. You said a lot of final-sounding things and left it open to see other people.  To me, that’s a breakup. I’m not cool enough to be casual. Sorry._



 

His nose scrunched up at the return text. He had thought about getting drunk but knew that would lead down a road that he did not want to visit or contemplate. Addiction was a fickle mistress, and he didn’t want to entertain her. The second text came in, and the panic that her initial message caused slowly started dying down.  
  
Oh.

A job.

That was good, but he was under the impression that she had given up modeling to work on her own things. It wasn’t his business.

 

_\- You’re the one who suggested seeing other people. It sounded like that’s what you wanted. I said it was up to you… I know. We’re not friends. I remember._

 

She read the message and closed her eyes, letting the tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes travel back down her throat instead of down her face.  This is exactly what she was afraid of. This whole thing had been Ulquiorra's choice, not hers. He had made this decision unilaterally. How dare he try to blame her…  She shook her head and wrote back:

 

  * _I never suggested it.  I asked if it was what you were going to do.  This hurts enough… Whatever. This whole thing was your choice; your decision. I didn’t get one.  Anyway, do you want to_ come _pick this up or should I send it to you?_



 

An angry huff left him. He didn’t get a choice either so they were even. His mouth twisted to the side, grimacing because Ulquiorra knew she was right. It had been his choice but only because he didn’t want to hurt her further with his anger about the situation.

 

_\- I got enough shit on my plate. I don’t need to go out and try to find some bitch to stick my dick into. You gonna be there if I swing by?_

 

She flinched at his response but replied:

 

  * _Apart from random errands, I’ll be here until Wednesday morning._



 

He frowned at her reply. If he wanted to know things, he should ask. Ulquiorra tapped out his next message.

 

 _-_ You really want _to see me?_

 

She responded as honestly as she could,

 

  * _I am afraid.  I know it’ll hurt.  LOL, I always said I’d never say that, that I’m afraid of you.  Anyway, I will deal with it. Stop by._



 

It figured. She was afraid of him when it didn’t count. He wasn’t being scary or imposing. He was being his human self. It was too easy to slip back into that charming persona he had developed over the years.

 

 _\- Quin gonna be there? I always liked it when you_ made _it_ hurt _._

 

She read his message, and at first, she didn’t recognize the feeling that was boiling up in her chest.  Tears started rolling down her cheeks, and by the time they reached her chin, the feeling rising her chest had reached her throat.  It was anger. How fucking dare he!

 

_\- Sorry. That wasn’t appropriate._

 

His reply came before she could say anything.  No matter.

 

  * _No shit that was inappropriate!  You don’t get to say that to me! Don’t come.  I’ll mail it._



 

It didn’t take but several minutes for him to use that shinigami power to take himself from Koenji to Shibuya. He was in front of her apartment door when his phone chimed. He wondered how long it would take her to register his spiritual pressure and get the text message he was about to send.

 

_\- Too late._

 

He lifted his hand and knocked.

She felt his presence before she got the text, and the knock followed immediately thereafter.  He was playing dirty. She didn’t bother cleaning her face off or trying to calm down. She wanted him to see how his flippant attitude affected her.  She stomped to the door and threw it open, snarling, “What!?”

He took in her appearance from the messy hair to her tear stained face and swollen eyes. Fuck. He meant to make things right with her and all he was doing was screwing it up more. “I wasn’t thinking,” Ulquiorra said. “It’s easy to slip into that mentality when texting you.”

“Well do me a favor and slip out of it,” she said turning to get the box.  “I’ll get your stuff.”

“Can I come in?” Ulquiorra asked. She probably should just slap him because he was being an idiot. He had this idea that when he would come over to get his shit that they would kiss and makeup. It wasn’t looking that way. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. There’d be no reconciliation. Maybe if he came on to her and laid the charm on thick that would repair this. Maybe if he got down on his knees and begged she would allow this to be smoothed over.

Maybe pigs would fucking fly too.

“Do what you want,” she said, and added under her breath, “you always do anyway.”

A scoff left his throat and he shook his head. He walked inside the apartment but didn’t leave the genkan. He slammed the door shut. “If I do what I want, we’d already be making out. I wouldn’t be fucking aware of the Koenji shinigami running around during the night. I wouldn’t have nightmares about Grimmjow. So, don’t tell me to do what I want.”

“Fine,” is all she said by way of reply.  She disappeared into her room for a moment and came back out carrying the large, awkward box.  It was about the size of a laundry basket and she was having a hard time getting it through the doorway.  She managed but almost dropped it, having to brace herself, spreading her feet apart a bit to keep balance as it tottered, then slowly started back toward the entrance.  Despite the circumstances, it looked comical.

What did this woman mean by fine? Fine that he was allowed to do as he pleased? Fine, it was okay? He didn’t understand her phrases sometimes. He walked over to where she was struggling and took the box from her, then placed it on the nearest surface. Ulquiorra knew she was going to resist but he didn’t care. He grabbed her wrists, just in case she tried to hit him or summon her little bird/airplane things.

He was the one who called for their break. Just because he did that didn’t mean he didn’t love Orihime or desire her. Ulquiorra knew it was fucking stupid, but he kissed her quickly; he didn’t want to get bitten, so he kept it short and sweet.

Orihime was stunned for a moment, then her face took on an expression of anguish. “Why, Ulquiorra?  Why are you doing this to me?” she choked on her last words as she pulled her wrists back feebly, not really putting in any effort.  She felt defeated anyway.

“You told me I didn’t give you a choice, but you didn’t give me one either. You told me to do what I want,” Ulquiorra explained. Why had he expected her to just fawn over him? “I miss you. Just because I told you I needed some space doesn’t mean I turned into a monk. You must have known when you asked me to come get my stuff that something would happen. I couldn’t keep my hands off you during the first break we had.”

“No.  No. I did not expect you just to show up unannounced and act like the past week and a half never happened.  If you can’t recognize the difference between our last break up and this one, we had much bigger problems than I recognized,” Orihime argued, shaking her head and backing away. “You can’t just use me as a sex toy and discard me when you lose interest.  You’re not the only one with feelings. It may be broken right now, but I have a heart too, you know!”

“You told me to come get it.” Ulquiorra stared down at her. “I’m not acting like it didn’t happen and I’ve never used you for a sex toy. I’m still very much obsessed with you, Orihime. That’s the problem. I’m angry and jealous and obsessed. Every time I think of Kurosaki saying he wants to fuck you I see red. That’s not healthy. I shouldn’t get insanely jealous where all I want to do is hide you away and keep you to myself!”

All she wanted to do was lie down and make this go away.  It was too painful. That wasn’t an option though. “Ulquiorra, I don’t know what to tell you.  If you think it’s a problem, then I guess it’s a problem. Have you been painting? Have you been trying to find yourself?”  He still hadn’t let go of her wrists, and she was keeping the tension taut, hoping he would get the hint and release her.

He huffed then pulled her closer. “You don’t think this is a problem? Orihime, my entire body is a shrine to you. It boasts of my level of fixation with you. Do you want me to start stalking you or becoming _that_ crazy boyfriend? I don’t,” Ulquiorra stated. He sighed and let go of her since she didn’t want to even begin to understand what this was like from his point of view. He scowled at the box, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You were crying when Kuchiki died, remember? In Hueco Mundo? I didn’t want you to cry so I went after your friends, thinking if I eliminated them, you’d stop crying and be happy that you were wearing that uniform; that you could be with me. Flawed logic, I know. I didn’t even understand what I was feeling when you were captive. I just knew I didn’t want anyone to take you away from me. I still don’t want that. You don’t understand that I _need_ time. You've told me from the beginning that you were sure I would do what I needed to do and that you'd support me. You said you would accept me for who I am. I changed who I was for you, Woman. I was willing to put my artistic career aside for you. You want me to love you and for us to last or do you want us to crash and burn?”

“I _never_ asked you, nor did I want you, to give up your artistic career.   Yeah, I asked you to meet Markus and do that one shoot with me, but that was one day of work.  That’s it. I never asked you to switch careers. You assume to know what I want but you never actually ask.  You assumed killing my friends would be useful? You assumed my career goal was to model? You assumed I wanted to trap you with a baby and milk you for child support…  I never wanted _any_ of those things.”  She sighed. “I accepted you for who you were every step of the way.  Maybe not unconditionally, but on the whole, I have. I know you are struggling now.  I accept that too. What I don’t accept is you waffling between us being separated or together.  I am not a strong enough person to do that back and forth thing.” She walked to the living room and sat down, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest.

“Fine. You won’t see me again,” Ulquiorra turned from her and grabbed the box that contained his stuff. “That’s all you have to say Orihime. Tell me you don’t want to see me again.”

She sighed.  “I never said that.  That’s another assumption.”  She closed her eyes tightly and said, “I love you.  I always want to be with you. What I can’t do is this on again off again thing.  Your impulses are normal, by the way. I’m the same. I want to keep you locked away from the world and have you all to myself sometimes too.  I hate that other woman dare to even look at or talk to you, but that is just my insecurities talking. The difference is that I recognize that those are unrealistic and I can’t expect those impulses to become reality. I’m getting sidetracked.”  She put her face into the pillow on her lap and thought for a moment, then looked up again. “I can only handle being separated from you if… who am I kidding? I’m not handling it. I’m just trying to stay busy enough to be able to ignore the loneliness I feel without you.  When you show up here and kiss me and let me see you, I can’t ignore it anymore. You want to take a break. I understand. But it’s not easy for me, I hope you understand that.”

He had asked her if she wanted to see him. She said she would deal with it and to come by. That wasn't an assumption. He asked; she answered. Her confusion was making him question things though. Did they really need to have this break? Was a week enough? “They’re not unrealistic to me,” he said with his back still to her. “You said you’re leaving for a job? Where? How long are you going to be gone? Is it permanent?”

This she could do.  She could talk about work without falling apart, mostly, anyway.  “Yeah, I leave Wednesday for Sado Island, then after a week, I go to Sendai for a few days and then to Thailand for a couple of weeks.  Then I’m coming back here again for a couple of days, and then I’m off again to Russia for a week and then back here for a while, then to Mongolia and then to Nikko, and then I think we’re coming back.  So it’s over in about two months including the time I have downtime here.”

It felt like she had slapped him. Two months? What the hell was he--How was he supposed to function if she wasn’t just a short distance away? Who knew what kind of charming men she would run into only to fall in love with?! “Do you have to go? If I tell you that this break is over, would you stay?” It was a dirty tactic, but he didn’t want her to leave although he had no weight in the matter. Ulquiorra had dropped her like a rock again.

“I signed a contract.  Besides, you say this break is important.  This will help. The distance will keep it a break.”  She paused to remember, “I was going to refuse, you know.  I got the offer on my way back to your place last time. I had started writing my refusal.  After you broke things off, I knew it was accept this job or, I dunno, throw myself into my work again or off the roof of your building.”

He wanted to whine and throw a tantrum, but he knew she was right once again. Ulquiorra swallowed and shifted the box in his arms. He turned and looked at Orihime. Giving a small chuckle, he said, “Yeah, I know all about contracts. So, two months… you’ll come back… to me?”

His question gave her pause.  “What do you mean? I’ll be back here for sure unless I die or something, but do you intend to wait for me for two months?”

He wanted to nod, but he hesitated. Ulquiorra knew that what she wanted his loyalty. However, he was a man who hadn’t gone long without sex. Could he go back to the whole self-love thing he’d had done with the first break up? “You have to be friends with me,” he said. If she couldn’t do that, then there was no point in waiting.

She saw the waffling look on his face, despite his answer.  “Let me rephrase my question. What is your ultimate intention for our relationship?”

“You want the truth?”

“Yes.”

“My ultimate intention is to get you back into my bed, my life, and my heart. Not in that order but you know the drill.”

“Yes, I do know the drill.  We’ve been down this road before, Ulquiorra.  Twice now. And look where it has led us each time.  I don’t know.”

He sighed. What was he supposed to say to that? “Okay, a new plan, since the old one didn’t work and doesn’t seem to work for us,” Ulquiorra proposed, setting the box down again. “Let me be your booty call — friends with benefits. Call me anytime, and I’ll be here. Maybe we have to be friends for a longer stretch of time.”

Orihime was horrified by his lack of awareness.  “That is probably the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” she said, completely flabbergasted.  “Do you…” she breathed deeply. “Do you know anything about me? About my heart? Has this been straight up sex for you this whole time?”

“What?” Ulquiorra furrowed his brow. What was she talking about? How could she ask him that? “This has not been straight up sex. If that were the case, then you wouldn’t have let me fuck you the first time. I mean what I say Orihime. I love you. It’s just--You’re like an addiction I need to feed. You’re a drug to me.”

Orihime wasn’t sure what to say or do. She didn’t have enough experience with life or love to be able to make informed decisions about this. “I don’t know how to help you.  But it seems to me if I am a drug to you… Then you should avoid me altogether. I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem healthy,” she said, looking crushed by this revelation.

“This is why we need a break, but sure, I got the answer I needed,” Ulquiorra said and walked towards the door.

“Wait!” she yelped, leaping to her feet. “I don’t know what the answers are.  I love you. I don’t want to see you struggle. I don’t want either of us to hurt as we have been.  I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think you _should_ see other people, to see whether what you feel for me is real or just an addiction.  And not just for sex either,” she could barely continue, her stomach twisting and heartbreaking; it was killing her to do what she was doing; what she thought was for the best, at least for him.  “I think you need to experience love for someone else…” she was a sputtering mess.

Ulquiorra turned to look at Orihime. He observed her for a moment. "Nah, I'm good. See ya," he said before grabbing his shit and exiting the apartment.


	28. Misery Loves Company

He stared up at the ceiling, green-eyes zoned out on the white surface with a blank expression. She had left, he had felt her spiritual pressure zooming somewhere northward. He knew she wasn’t in Tokyo anymore. He told himself that it didn’t bother him.

Ulquiorra lied to himself.

He did it so much since he had been resurrected. He had contradicted himself. He had gone against everything he had been taught or learned or believed in since meeting Orihime again. Why? For some pussy? To get laid?    
  
Was he that much of a piece of shit? 

Had he told Orihime all that purple prose to have sex with her?

So he had to think. Did he actually love Orihime? Was he in love with her or was it just obsession? 

He had to google what it meant to be in love with someone.    
  
That was humiliating.   
  
The website he clicked on said there were eight markers for loving someone. He clicked on it.

 

_ Loving someone is a choice, being in love isn't. _

 

What the fuck did that mean?

The paragraph under that headline told him what it meant. If you weren’t in love, you could leave and forget about the person. 

He had chosen to walk away from Orihime, but he hadn't forgotten about her. She walked across his mind infinite times a day. He didn't mean to develop feelings for her, and he certainly did not permit himself to do so. 

He had only walked away because of what she did. All Ulquiorra wanted to do was live out the rest of his years with her as a normal human. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to see her do well in life. He wanted to see her become successful and break away from the shadows of her friends.

 

_ Loving someone means wanting them to do well, being in love means putting them first. _

 

Okay, well, he had the first part of that down but had he put her first? Maybe... In an obscure way, he put her first by becoming a model so that they could spend more time together, but those hopes were quickly dashed because the same day he'd signed that contract for Markus was the beginning of the end of their relationship.

He was a selfish shithead. Take, take, take and never give. That’s what he had done. The words of his friend, The Novelist, came back to him.

“Murcielago, there’s more to a relationship than sex. You’ve got to give her more than orgasms, my friend,” the man had intoned. “You can’t expect it to work if you can’t give anything back.”

The next point brought a sour twist to his stomach.

 

_ Loving someone is fleeting, being in love is forever. _

 

He'd gotten annoyed with Orihime over the whole resurrecting him thing. He had become mad at her for it because he was suddenly something interesting to Urahara. Suddenly the Quincy wanted to be friends. Suddenly it had looked like Kurosaki was going to win again. It had hurt his pride because he had gone to Urahara for help before when he woke up. It burned him because he had been friendly and cordial to Ishida before his death. It made him livid because he had already defeated Kurosaki twice and all that man could do was gloat about one fucking victory which had resulted in Ulquiorra’s death.

Just because he gotten annoyed with her didn’t mean he didn’t love her. What had scared him into the whole taking a break was the fact that this insane jealousy came out and he remembered feeling like that in Hueco Mundo. It resulted in his fight with Grimmjow and being trapped inside of a Caja Negacion. He felt it when Kurosaki showed up in the fifth tower. He felt it when the woman had fallen beside the orange-haired man’s lifeless body.   
  
It scared him to want to focus that much on one person.

 

_ Loving someone means needing them around, being in love means needing them to be happy where they are. _

 

This right here pointed to the fact that he wasn't in love with Orihime because he wanted and craved her attention and got hurt when she went out with her other friends. He didn't want to leave her alone. He constantly wanted to be near her. Orihime was her own person though. She had hobbies and other interests. He knew that she didn't like modeling. She wanted to design clothes.

Sometimes he wasn’t the center of her universe, and it bothered him. 

 

_ Being in love is a steady stream of emotions while loving someone is a rush. _

 

He had ridden that wave of endorphins to one of the greatest highs he had felt in his short life. It had also taken him to an extreme low. It was a burst of emotions, mainly happiness in the short term instead of maintaining that feeling in the long run. He was trying to tell this to her the other day. If he wasn’t in love with her, then this entire thing would crash and burn only for them to be devastated by each other. 

 

_ Loving someone is all about how they make you feel while being in love is about how you make them feel. _

 

This part just called him out in all sorts of ways. 

Orihime made him feel good. Her body brought so much pleasure to him. She was a feel-good thing for him. Looking at her brought a pleasant euphoria over his restless mind. He thought he made her feel good.  Once again, there was more to relationships than orgasms.

Had he ever made her feel loved that didn’t involve an orgasm? Did he ever make her feel appreciated when she wasn’t on top of him? Had he ever made her feel special? Ulquiorra had no fucking clue. He figured he’d done all that with the paintings he had done of her; of all the tattoos on his body.

She made him feel loved all the time. She made him feel like he was the only man in the world. She made him feel like she was grateful and thankful for everything he did, even if it was just an orgasm. He remembered back to the night he had taken her virginity. Orihime had told him ‘thank you’ with a sweet smile. Ulquiorra had brushed off a lot of her gestures because he had been embarrassed. 

 

_ Being in love is a partnership; not ownership. _

 

Orihime wanted to constantly label things. Tree. Cloud. Dog. Friend. Lover. Enemy. Boyfriend. He thought back to that time inside that room at the hospital when that doctor had called him her husband. She had even played along with the charade. 

The redhead was constantly labeling him. Espada. Boyfriend. Arrancar. Human. Hollow. Fuckboy. Batman.    
  
He didn’t affix any words to their relationship. She was his woman. Orihime was his queen and his princess. He was her sword, vowing to save her if she ever needed it. That’s what he had done in Los Noches. He knocked away Kurosaki’s Getsuga Tenshou to stop it from harming Orihime. He just knew that he wanted to spend his life with her. She had protected him though from Grimmjow and Kurosaki, so they had a somewhat partnership but still… it seemed to him that she was focused on ownership rather than working as a team.

But then again, Ulquiorra didn’t give nearly enough of himself to Orihime to call their relationship a partnership either.

When he came to the last point, he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose because he didn’t want to see how right this stupid website that came up from an information search was; he didn’t want it to be correct in its assessment.

 

_ If you're in love there's no effort; loving someone is a constant struggle. _

 

Ulquiorra had heard everything. 

_ If it's easy, it's not worth it. _

_ If it’s worth it, it’ll be hard.  _

_ It shouldn’t be this difficult. _

They hadn't really fought except for that blowout at the hospital, but they were treading water to stay together. Ulquiorra constantly waffled and flip-flopped on his stance about her and their relationship. 

He and Orihime had a connection that stretched across lifetimes and years. Sometimes through their history together was a thread that was thick and strong in some places and then filament-thin and weak in others.

Ulquiorra thought he loved her and his emotions concerning Orihime didn't feel forced. He didn't waste effort on affection for her. It never felt like he had to work at feeling something for her. Most of it was positive, and occasionally he got annoyed with her over silly things. The one time he had gotten mad at her was the entire fight with Kurosaki where she helped him, and that was because she had brought him back to life!

No. He hadn’t been mad at Orihime. He’d been angry at Kurosaki, and he just pushed those negative emotions off on her because she was the one to show concern. She had been the closest one around at the time.

Fuck.

FUCK.

Tears came to his eyes as he thought about her. He let them slip out of the corner of his eyes, unchecked. He blinked slowly, more tears rolling down the sides of his face. 

He had warned her that he was a fuck up. Ulquiorra had warned her that at times, his head wasn’t exactly screwed on right. His jealousy had clouded his logical state, and he just blamed the first person to come along and in the process, detonated their relationship. At this point, he couldn’t even apologize to her because she went to some other place for work.

She had mentioned them spending the future together. She mentioned something about Ulquiorra wanting to procreate with someone else instead of being sterilized. She mentioned about not being able to stand him falling in love with someone else if they remained friends for a long time. She assumed a lot about him with that shit.

Ulquiorra lay there for a couple more hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking about her. He knew what he wanted. He knew what he wanted to do. No one could stop him. No one could tell him it was a bad idea. No one could tell him that they hated it.

He made two appointments, one with a tattoo artist; the other with the place that had cut his hair the first time.   
  
It was time to make some changes to himself. 

Start over.

Several days later, Ulquiorra had a new tattoo which he stared at whenever he could. He had Orihime’s name tattooed on him in hiragana. It was on his arm underneath the origami boat and the hilt of Murcielago. His tattoo artist said nothing as he did it, but the man raised an eyebrow as Ulquiorra paid.

A couple more days passed by and he found himself walking into that salon. The woman who had cut his hair the first time led him to the same chair and started chatting away.    
  
“What do you want today?”

“Shave it all off.”

“You sure?”

Ulquiorra nodded. He didn’t want to be attractive anymore. Orihime liked his hair. It had to go. “Absolutely,” he stated.

The woman frowned, “To be honest, I don’t think that you should do that but, can I suggest a style if you’re tired of this shaggy cut?”   
  
Eventually, he left the salon with the stylist’s number and a messy textured top with an undercut fade. The woman said he looked even hotter. Ulquiorra gave the woman a side-eyed glance and a smirk. She practically swooned right there.

He didn’t throw away the number this time. He didn’t contact the stylist either.    
  
The night he got his haircut, he contemplated showing Orihime his new tattoo and haircut. Instead, he sent her a text.

_ \- Got another tattoo. Also got my hair chopped off. You doing okay? _

Throwing his phone onto his desk, he went stand in front of the canvas he was working on.

 

***

 

The Sado Island shoot had gone well.  The autumn colors were starting to turn their ginkgo golden yellow and momiji scarlet.  The olive greens and rich navy colors of Pauletto’s fall collection clothing was a beautiful contrast. Orihime was frequently used in photos for the fall line, due in large part to the color of her hair complimenting the scenery and color scheme so well.  It was a lot of long days with early morning make-up calls and late night shoot wrap parties. She tried to avoid the parties. She needed sleep.

But even when it was quiet, she didn’t sleep well.  She had been such an idiot. What woman in her right mind would go ahead and tell the love of her life, “Oh yeah, go out and fuck other women.  Oh, and while you’re at it,  _ please go ahead and fall in love with them. _ ”

She didn’t deserve her own pity.  She had brought this on herself. He had been willing to get back together, and she said no.  But did he mean it, or was he just trying to keep her accessible?

Probably the latter, she realized sadly.

Still, what did she stand to gain from holding out on him?  He wasn’t likely to change his ways any more than he already had for her.  And to be fair, he  _ had _ changed.  He had changed a lot since the time she met him at the first art show of his that she attended. Some things hadn’t changed, and some things had. She was grateful for most of the accommodations he had made for her.  He had been undoubtedly loyal. She never suspected that he was cheating on her during the times they had been together. His eye never wandered far from her when they were out, and they were honestly rarely out. 

The thing that gave her the most doubt was the thing she had been trying to convince herself and him didn’t matter: his jealousy. Orihime acknowledged that she, herself, was a naturally jealous and possessive person.  She didn’t always take it in stride when other women checked him out or flirted with her now, presumably, ex-boyfriend. However, she never made it his problem, and that was where the difference in the way they handled jealousy lied.  She felt jealousy and thought about it and set it aside. She knew he was loyal. He, on the other hand, also knew she was loyal, but he allowed it to burn him up anyway. It caused him to doubt her even though she gave him no indication to do so.

She sighed.

On the last night of the shoot on Sado Island, she went to the wrap party.  It was nice. The local people working tech on set were congenial and hospitable, and the booze flowed.  Orihime had gotten deep into a conversation with another model about relationships and their flaws. Even in her drunken stupor, Orihime was able to recognize that compared to this other woman, at least, she had been lucky in love with Ulquiorra.  He took care of her. Sexually, often emotionally, and always as a companion. He did not neglect her like the boyfriends of many of the women at the shoot. She went to bed that night with her head spinning and her stomach churning; not just from the urge to vomit.

She had definitely made a terrible mistake.

The next day she flew into Sendai and made her home at a business hotel near the airport.  There was nothing to do, and she was stranded there for a couple of days until her flight to Thailand was set to take off.  She didn’t want to waste money to go into the city, but after the first twenty-four hours she broke down and took a bus into the city center.  

Her first stop was a huge bookstore.  She wandered around, browsing the fashion, art, and culture books.  She made her way to the periodicals. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see his art staring back at her from the cover of a contemporary art magazine.  She picked it up and started to flip through it, then closed it, deciding to buy it and bring it back to the hotel with her. 

She did a little more shopping and then returned to her hotel.  When she arrived some of the women from the Sado Island shoot who were also going on to Thailand invited her to dinner, and by the time she went back to the hotel, she was too tired and didn’t open the magazine.

The next day she woke up feeling like she had forgotten something.  She rolled over and saw the bag from the bookstore and sat up quickly, grasping at it and pulling out the magazine.  The cover showed one of the paintings Ulquiorra had done of their hands reaching for one another against a dark background.  She would have recognized it anywhere. In the table of contents, it pointed her to a brief article about C. Murcielago and his upcoming art show.  She would be in Thailand for it. It made her sad. 

She closed the magazine and sighed.  She had to agree with some of the things Ulquiorra  said the last time they stood in the same room. He had let himself get too wrapped up in her world. He had allowed his art fall by the wayside.  She didn’t like it. He _ had _ been losing himself.  She had fallen in love with him for who he had been, and although flawed, she had found him admirable in many ways, especially creatively.  His creativity seemed to have all but left him recently. Maybe she was the one to blame. Maybe it was him. She didn’t know, but he was right to have been concerned about it.

She was concerned about herself.

Here she was, 23 years old, by all standards attractive, and she had only had one real relationship.  With a guy who had dumped her. Twice. The only other guy she had ever considered as a potential romantic partner never took her seriously and cast her aside like garbage, only to turn into the world’s largest douche canoe.  The only thing the two men had in common was a strong interest in her and a possessive streak. Even Uryu was possessive of her. Perhaps it was that possessiveness that kept her from meeting anybody else. Maybe she used it to keep other people away.

Should she open herself up to someone else?

She knew she didn’t want to.  She was still deeply in love with Ulquiorra, whether he was or not.  She wouldn’t be able just to walk away from that, even if there was nothing to walk back to. Since leaving Tokyo, though, she had already begun to notice a difference.  Without one of the significant men in her life around, she was being flirted with a lot more. It felt nice. It felt normal.

It also felt sad.

The next couple days in Sendai went by quickly, and soon she was landing in Bangkok.  She was tired when she got off the flight and was even more wiped out after going through immigration and customs.  She turned her phone back on once she was out of the airport. There was a message from Ulquiorra.

She had not been expecting that.

He changed his look.  Orihime smirked. She thought only girls did that after a breakup.

He also asked if she was okay.  Why? They weren’t friends. She had made that clear.  She didn’t want to be friends with him. Not now, and maybe not ever.  It would be much too painful for her. Maybe it was selfish, but she had to look out for her own well-being. The only other person in her life that did that on a part-time basis was Quin.  Quin was not always going to be around to do that as he had been for the past few years. She didn’t want that anyway. Not for him and not for herself. She had seen enough  _ Will & Grace _ to know that in the end the straight girl/gay guy dynamic breeds resentment when they lean on each other too much.  She wanted to be friends with Quin forever. She didn’t want to be his anchor, nor did she want him being hers.

She sighed exasperatedly and decided it wasn’t going to hurt anything to let Ulquiorra know how things were going.  Maybe one day they would end up being friends, after all. She shouldn’t burn bridges.

  * _I just landed in Thailand and am waiting for a bus at the airport.  The shoot is going well so far. Sado Island is amazing in the fall.  You should go if you ever have an opportunity. I am tired. It’s lonely.  I wonder what your new look is like. - Orihime PS: Saw your write-up in “JPArt Scene”.  Nice! Good luck with your show._



 

***

 

Laying in bed, feeling fucked up and hung over, Ulquiorra stared at his phone. He sent the text to Orihime over thirty-six hours ago, and he just received her reply.

Fuck. He was so fucking fucked.

He saw that she had read it. The artist had waited and waited for a reply. She had to reply to him. She always replied to him. He was expecting an immediate text or a phone call and had been severely disappointed when nothing arrived. 

Paranoia crept up his spine. His brain was telling him that Orihime wasn’t on location at some photoshoot… She was fucking Kurosaki. Ulquiorra had texted the shinigami who had sent back a nasty photo of him and some woman that looked like Yui cuddling. Asshole. Did he want to rub it in that he was single?

No matter. After twenty-four hours, Ulquiorra was done waiting. He took a shower. He primped and preened and pampered himself. He got dressed to the nines and even accessorized. Quin would have been proud of him.

He stepped foot inside Aquamarine last night. The music was pumping; bodies were everywhere. It was just like any other night in this cesspool of desperation. Ulquiorra ordered a drink and stood at the bar, tossing back the contents and watching the other patrons. He gestured for another one when someone caught his eye.

Short… Check.   
  
Reddish hair? It could have been colored, but all he knew is that the nameless woman’s hair wasn’t black.   
  
The woman was bigger than Orihime, and that was okay with him. He didn’t like fucking sticks. Having his hip bones scrape against someone else’s wasn’t fun and didn’t feel good in the slightest.

She had a horse-type face though. Her smile and nose were a bit too wide. Her eyes were small. The one thing that really turned Ulquiorra off was her eyebrows. They were black. So this one did color her hair. It figured. She wasn’t really all that attractive, at least to him. He wasn’t looking to fall in love with anyone. He just wanted a body to dance with. 

So they danced. They chatted. A camera flash went off as they exited the club and got into a cab. He didn’t realize that he was still news. He had taken the woman to a love hotel and paid for an hour. Ulquiorra looked at the woman as she undressed and then looked down at himself.

He had been ready to go; to do this but as soon as he lifted his arm and saw that cartoon version of Orihime’s face staring at him disapprovingly, his dick went limp. The woman who was drunker than him didn’t mind; she had passed out while he was in the bathroom trying to talk himself into another erection. It didn’t work. Every time he glanced at his body, his cock betrayed him.   
  
Ulquiorra left the nameless woman at the love hotel. He went home using flash step to navigate the twelve flights of stairs. He fell into bed after stripping his clothes off.

The morning dawned too bright, too early, and too fucking loud when his phone chimed. He blindly reached out for it, knocking over the books that were sitting on his bedside table. They clattered to the floor with loud thunks which just made his hangover worse. 

Which brought him to the present; her text message and why he was so screwed up.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that would help the noise in his head die down. Spoiler, it didn’t. He threw the phone onto the empty space beside him and sighed. Then he ran for the bathroom. After heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet, taking a shower, and doing general morning maintenance on himself, Ulquiorra found himself in his kitchen with his phone and a cup of coffee.    
  
How the fuck was he supposed to answer this? He had to try.

_\- Maybe you can give me a tour one of these days. I just got your text today. You waiting to answer? Modeling is tiresome, get some extra sleep._

He didn’t think as he sent it, wanting to kick himself for trying to fucking charm her. She probably would just brush it off as him being a fuckboy. The next text said:

_ \- I’m sorry you’re lonely, or it’s lonely. Not sure what you mean. Tho it’s not like the company is great here either. Thanks for the compliment. The show is probably gonna suck. Do you want a pic of my new look? _

He had less than two weeks to get ready for his show, and he had almost nothing to show. At this point, he was ready to fling paint at the canvas and call it art. His phone dinged, and he rushed to pick it up.    
  
It was Hirano bitching at him for something. It wasn’t his fault the internet was going crazy over something. He replied to her, and she started blowing up his phone. She called.

“What the fuck C?”

“What?”   
  
“She looks like a fucking horse. How much did you pay? Did you use protection?”   
  
“What the fuck Hirano? What are you talking about?”   
  
“WHOEVER YOU LEFT AQUAMARINE WITH LAST NIGHT, YOU DICKHOLE!” his PR agent screamed. “SHE BETTER NOT BE A HOOKER AND YOU BETTER GET TESTED FOR AN STI!”

Ow. His head still hurt. He hung up the call with Hirano still bitching at him, but it couldn’t be helped.

Ulquiorra looked at the stack of blank canvases and then decided to try his idea. The worst they could do was suck.

 

***

 

Orihime woke up to another beautiful Phuket morning.  The sun was shining, the water was a beautiful shade of azure, and the air smelled sweet.  Too bad she had to work.

Part of her job, per her contract, was maintaining a social media presence.  She had started a photo-sharing page and was quickly gathering followers. Apart from the creepy messages that she was ensured were “just a normal part of it, you know there are trolls under every bridge,” it was the most fun part of her job.  She would snap selfies of herself getting ready for shoots and just hanging out at the beach with a book and a Mai Tai. It was good fun and a good way to get her mind off of things.

That morning, as she posted a goofy gif of herself blowing up her cheeks like a puffer fish, she checked her messages.

There were more than usual.

The first was from Ichigo.  She ignored it.

The second was from Uryu.  It read:

  * _Hey Boo, you okay?  I’m worried about you._



The third and fourth were from Ulquiorra.  She read them and smiled. He seemed like he was doing alright, although he had reverted to his smarmy pickup lines again, she thought with a smirk.  She decided to reply to him first.

  * _Hi, it’s weird you didn’t get my message right away, I sent it three days ago.  Oh well. You got it in the end. Any progress on your art? Phuket is wonderful.  I’m getting a lot of sun and rest. It’s hard to care about things like being lonely when you are surrounded by the sea and white sand and warm temps.  It’s heaven. Yeah, send me a pic of your hair at least, I’m curious. I’ll leave the tattoo to your discretion. TTYL._



She smiled as she sent it.  Then she replied to Uryu.

  * _I’m fine, what are you worried about?_



His reply was immediate.

  * _Didn’t Kurosaki text you?_



She replied:

  * _Yeah, but he does all the time.  I don’t need another dick pic. I usually just ignore them and eventually delete them._



Again his response was immediate.

  * _I don’t think you should ignore this one._



She tsked and opened the message from Ichigo.  Her attitude faded when she saw the contents of the message. There was a series of pictures of Ulquiorra and a short, red-haired, unremarkable woman leaving Aquamarine together.  His hand was on the small of her back as they got into a cab in the next pic. In the last, they were entering a love hotel together. 

She took another selfie, this time staring hard into the lens of her phone’s camera.  She captioned it, “A picture is worth 1000 words”. She posted it to her instagram.

 

***

 

He was so fucked. Again… So fucking fucking fucked. Hirano didn’t call him. She came to his apartment. She was screaming at him. 

“THERE ARE PICTURES!”   
  
“I can see that!”   
  
“Do you understand the severity of this? People are tagging you and Inoue on different social media sites,” the imposing Japanese woman said. She may have been an inch shorter than him but she gave off a vibe that she would cut Ulquiorra and then throw his body out of the window without any qualms.

“What? Why should I care? I don’t have--”   
  
“Yes, you do. As a model, you should have had one. I set one up for you. It features some photos from your shoots, yes, the ones from Markus are on there and your artwork.”   
  
Ulquiorra looked shocked as the woman pulled the website up on his computer. He stared dumbfounded at the images he was faced with. He had notifications out the ass and his follower number had five digits. This was ridiculous.   
  
“Take this down. I didn’t give you permission--” He stopped and just stared as another alert crossed the screen. “Can’t you take the vulture pics down? Can’t you threaten to sue?”   
  
“C, you have dug your own hole on this. You could have gone for someone who did not look like your ex and it would have been fine,” Hirano scolded.   
  
“I have a fucking type, okay?”

The woman grumbled and left, leaving Ulquiorra sitting there overwhelmed. Various comments popped up and he did a casual search for Orihime and the same photosite he was on. Her username popped up and he clicked on it. He wasn’t being stalkery. He was investigating. Ulquiorra clicked follow and then looked at all the pictures she had posted. Then he looked at the newest photo. 

Orihime knew. She had to know by now. It was all over the fucking place.

_ \- I can explain. I swear I have an explanation for this and you’ll laugh about it. Maybe. It’s embarrassing. Please, just let me explain before you jump to conclusions. _

He sent the text and sat there biting his nail. It was some twenty minutes later that he received a text. It was from Orihime. He got excited then he read it and became confused.   
  
_\- Um, art is hard, and it sucks. Self-care is good… Orihime…_  
  
He debated on taking a picture. Ulquiorra had enough pictures for the week. He didn’t think he needed to take more, but he had to. He texted Hirano who was only on the sixth floor and told her to come back up and teach him how to use this damn website or app. Whatever it was.  
  
He got a crash course in selfies. He got a crash course on social media sites. He got his ass reamed about trying to pick up women who looked like bigger versions of his ex-girlfriend. Once the public relations bitch was gone, Ulquiorra started snapping pictures of himself.

Picking the four best ones, he uploaded them and hoped for the best.

 

***

 

Orihime had received Ulquiorra’s messages.  She was fucking done. She was busy. She was working.  She didn’t have time for this bullshit. She knew exactly what she was going to say when she was wrapped for the day, though.  She was so sure that she didn’t even worry about it while she was doing the shoot.

Come nightfall; she went to a party.  She rarely did, but she wanted to have some liquid courage before she replied.  The photographer from the day’s shoot was at the party and was being overly flirtatious.  She didn’t care. She even let him put his hand on her thigh. Not for long, but she allowed it for a moment.  She wasn’t flattered. She just didn’t care.

When she finally went up to her room,  _ alone _ , she took out her phone.

  * _Looks like you have been engaging in self-care as well. Good for you. I’m sorry you’re struggling with your art.  You don’t owe me any explanations, but I’m sure I won’t be laughing about any of them._



She passed out after she sent the text, grateful for the slight fog in her brain and the fact that she wasn’t scheduled to work until after 10:00 the next day.

 

***

 

He read her text. He wanted to go out and find some skinny, typical looking Japanese bitch and fuck her. He didn’t. Instead, he sat flicking through her pics like some obsessed asshole, which was exactly what he was. Ulquiorra didn’t know why he was like this. He didn’t know why he was so affected by this. He wanted to sit and cry because how much everything hurt.

He wanted to talk to her; to explain in his own words without letting the words be misconstrued. So he called. The phone rang and rang. It went to voicemail. He never left a message.

Ulquiorra wasn’t sleeping, so he decided to wait for up for her. He called her once an hour, every hour. He told himself that when she finally picked up, he’d explain to her and then let her decide the fate of their relationship.

After the sixth phone call, he couldn’t stand it.

- _It’s not what you think, Woman. I was going to but I couldn’t… Physically, my own body cock blocked me. I went to the bathroom trying to get it back up, and the woman passed out. See? It’s fucking ridiculous. Please, I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you. Just five minutes of your time._

He saw hours later that the message hadn’t been read. Even the next day when he got up it still had not been read. 

Nodding several times, Ulquiorra knew he should have expected this. She had decided it was over between them.

***

 

Orihime was finally done for the day.  She had been told to take a break and go talk to an interviewer, and it went much longer than she had expected, and she had ended up drinking almost an entire bottle of wine on her own during the course of the interview.  When it was over, so was the shoot, and she stumbled back into her room. She read the message from Ulquiorra asking her to talk. She had been talking all day, mostly about him. What difference would it make now?

“RING TO THE MOTHERFUCKING RING,” she droned in an obnoxious drunken voice as the phone rang.

He drifted off to sleep, with his phone in his hand. He squinted at the screen before he pressed the speaker icon. Ulquiorra didn’t say anything though until a few seconds passed by. “Yeah?”

“You know, you don’t get a cookie for having whiskey dick.  And like I said,” she paused as the room swayed a bit, “you don’t owe me an explanation.  Whyyougotta essplain?”

“Are you drunk?” Ulquiorra asked, sitting up on the bed. “It wasn’t the fucking alcohol. I can’t look at my own body without seeing something about you. And I’ve gotta explain because I fucking love you, you idiot.”

“I have been called a lot of things in my day,” she paused and took a deep breath, “and idiot is among them.  Yet you are the one who takes questionable women to love hotels and lets yourself get followed by Cinnamon McDickface, lets yourself get pictures taken outside da’club and some dirtball love hotel, and then lets those pictures go all over social media.  I’d say you’re the idiot, idiot.”

Ulquiorra shook his head. “No, I’m worse than an idiot. I’m a fucking moron and I know it. I’m not trying to play the martyr or whatever. I’m the asshole. I’m the moron. I’m the one who has your name tattooed on me and you’re done with me now.”

“What the fuck did you do that for?  You dumped me, remember? That’s not the right order of events,” the volume of her voice trailed off as her eyes closed, then she rallied.  “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I did some innerview t’day. I think it’s gonna be okay but the lady kept plying me with wine and asking me about you.  I’m sorry if I fuck things up for you with it but I think it’s oh-kay. I was tryna be a good girl n’I was just telling the lady… what wasser name? Emi-chan.  Yeah, I was just telling Emi-chan the truth so it’s okay. Oh! Oh yeah and don’t worry about that dude TitusFrankfurter or whatever on insta he is a cocksucker.  He’s probably gonna bother you now too. Anyway, it was nice talking to you Orihime.” She was rambling and nearly incoherent.

“No, Orihime. Did you see my pictures on there?” Ulquiorra asked before she could hang up. “And what did you say about me? Is Hirano going to kill me?”

“No I didn’t see’em yet I was working all day and then this interview,” she paused to yawn.  “I think it was pretty nice she asked how we met and all kindsa stuff like that, and I just told ‘er the truth and when she asked ‘bout the skank pics… I am pretty sure I just told ‘er we had broken up so it was what it was, or some kinda bullshit.”

“You told me to go out and do that, remember?”

“Yep.  Hold on I’m gonna put you on speaker okay?  I need to lay down.”

Ulquiorra waited. He heard shuffling around  and then there was silence. “Hime? Are you still there? You told me to go do that and my own body said no. I did some deep thinking the other day--well I’ve been doing it since I called it off with you and I’ve come to realize something.”

“Oh yeah?” she mumbled.

“I love you. I want you back. I’m not saying this just to say it or get in your pants. I do. I took in all the information I could about us and our relationship. I’m sorry. I should have given you more of myself and cared about how i made you feel instead of just taking what I could get from you,” Ulquiorra said quietly.

“Mmmhmm, okay.  Well did you decide that before or after you and Horseface of the No Tits Tribe went to the love hotel?”

Ulquiorra scoffed. “I did that and made the rash decision to take you up on your offer because you didn’t text me back. All I wanted was some acknowledgement. You read the damn message and I didn’t get it for two damn days. What am I supposed to think being left on read?”

“I don’t know what you are supposed to think, dude.  I don’t know what I think. But it doesn’t feel very nice to know you’re only worth two days of waiting.  Still, like I said--”

“You’re going to forget the fucking six years I did, waiting for you? I got pissed off,” he stated. “Maybe we should talk about this when you’re sober.”

“You’re right, we should, but let me leave you with this food for thought:  If we got back together, and you get pissed off, what are you gonna do then?”

Ulquiorra answered her in the simplest of ways. “I’m going to talk to you instead of making assumptions.” 

“How many others?  Fuck that’s right. Nevermind.  You don’t have to explain. You make sure TitusDingleberry and Cornholio don’t troll you too hard; they are bastards and they will send you dick pics.  So be forewarned.”

“How many other what? How many other women have I slept with since when? The dawn of my becoming a human or since we broke up this time? Woman, I’ve been faithful to you since I offered my brand loyalty remember? Until you tell me you do not want me, it will continue to be that way,” Ulquiorra said. “I fucked up, Orihime. Just… Look at the pictures on that IG thing. Please. I tagged you in one of them.”

“Ok.  You might want to remind me tomorrow, though.”

“I need you to do it now. Or I can send the pic to you.”

“You mean right now while I have you on the phone?”

Ulquiorra nodded his head and then realized he didn’t have rocks rattling around in it so there’d be no way that she could get that he gave her an affirmative answer. “Yes, right now. Please.”

“Ok, hold on,” she picked up her phone off her pillow and brought it to her face and clicked the app.  She had a lot of notifications. “Ok, hold on this might take a minute. My god, there are a lot of penises on the internet.” she scrolled through and was just overwhelmed with spam of the anonymous woman and Ulquiorra.

“Who the fuck’s dick are you looking at?” he growled.

“I don’t even know, there are so many.  Have you seen my IG account? There are a lot of creeps who comment.”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to send you the pic or not? It would be much easier than having a drunk you trying to find it.”

“Okay, okay, just send it then.”

Her phone buzzed.  She looked. “Ok, so...  You are a hot guy. I knew that.  Your new hair looks good.”

“Do you see the tattoo?”

“Where is it… oh.”

Ulquiorra waited for her to say something--anything else. “It’s on my arm. ”

“Yeah, I see it.  Um, it’s cute. I don’t know why I’m surprised that it’s in hiragana. It’s cute that way.”

“Orihime, I do apologize. I’m hurting just as much as you are. I was wrong to take my anger concerning Kurosaki out on you,” he said. “That’s what caused this. I’m the moron.”

She was quiet for a long time, closing her eyes and opening them.  “Yes, you are,” she finally said, softly. “Did you know that getting tattoos in Thailand is crazy cheap?”

“How do you know this? Orihime,” he said in warning. He couldn’t stop her from doing anything but if she got a tattoo… 

“I know stuff.”

“Send me a pic of it?”

“I’m still designing it.  Can’t exactly model bikinis with a big red welt on my skin, can I?” she murmured. She sounded sleepy.

Ulquiorra sighed in relief. “I love you, Woman. You sound--Are you going to pass out?”

All he heard was the soft, familiar sound of her snoring. He didn’t hang up the phone. He put it by his ear and listened to that sound until he fell asleep.


	29. I Love...

Ulquiorra’s call history showed their call went on for six hours and thirty-seven minutes. She must have woken up and realized it had gone on or her phone died. His own phone battery was dangerously low.  He plugged it in and went about his day, feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks. He actually got some painting done. Ulquiorra answered emails and other correspondences. It was a productive day.

He sat at his computer desk looking at the pictures of them together; pictures of her alone before they were together. He kept thinking about his conversation with Orihime. He knew how he felt about her. Why did he feel like that about her? That was one question that he could not answer at the moment.

Ulquiorra assumed a couple of things though.

She had been drunk, so anything he had said to her was probably forgotten. Maybe she forgot all about the picture he had sent. It looked much like the selfie he had sent the first time he revealed all of his tattoos to her.

Then her talk about whoever that was… He didn’t understand why someone would troll her. He didn’t even know what that term meant.

Several hours passed by and he thought about texting her, but she was probably busy or working. After all, she was a social creature, and he was not. He had no urge to be around others. He decided to text her anyway.

_\- What’s this mean now? How do we proceed?_

It was worth a shot.

 

***

 

Orihime had woken up late and somewhat hung over.  Her only saving grace had been that she had stopped drinking early in the evening and drank nothing but water until she eventually passed out.  It was all good though; she wasn’t on the schedule that day.

What time had that been?  Even though it was already afternoon, she was still sleepy.  She bet if she checked her phone she’d have some idea of what she had been up to.  A worrisome thought briefly crossed her mind that she may have been playing on social media again, either posting unflattering or inappropriate pictures or getting into arguments with trolls.  Either would get her a disapproving glare from Pauletto.

She picked up her phone.  No power. What the heck? She usually left it charging all night long, but even then it would be unusual to be totally drained already.  She plugged it in, and while it loaded, she went to the bathroom for her morning ritual and got herself a cup of coffee.

She opened the french doors to her room’s balcony to let in the fresh ocean air and sat back down on her bed.  She turned her phone over and checked her IG account. Nothing out of the ordinary, except that a picture of hers had been liked more than usual.  She checked it. It actually wasn’t a picture of her; it was Ulquiorra’s, and he had tagged her in it. What the… he got a haircut. She hated to admit that it was cute.  Adorable, even. Sexy. She groaned as her eyes swept the picture. He was topless and cut to perfection as he normally was in selfies. Wait… Is that? No! He wouldn’t, would he?  They were broken up! Why would he get her name tattooed on his forearm where anyone could read it? And after the interview, she gave yesterday running her mouth off to who she now realized was _not_ her new BFF, Emi-chan, everyone who followed him would know who Orihime was.  God, she was dumb.

Oh well.  He had dumped her.  It wasn’t her job to protect his image.

She went into her texts and saw one from him last night.  She didn’t remember it. He was making excuses for getting caught with that skank from Aquamarine.  It made her head throb.

Still, it didn’t explain her drained battery.  Then she checked her call log.

That explained it.  Nearly seven hours on the phone?  It didn’t seem likely that she would forget _all_ of it.  She sat there trying to remember, when a new text came in from Ulquiorra.

How do we proceed?  What does what mean?  Why had she been on the phone with him?   Panic started to well up in her. What if she had said something she couldn’t take back?  What if he had told her he had moved on?

She had to find out.

  * _Um, Ulquiorra?  I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t say anything too terrible last night.  I really don’t remember much._



He had decided to go out and get something to eat. That’s what Ulquiorra was doing when the text came in. He was carrying home a bag with some premade meals in it. He dug his phone out of his pocket and looked at it. A sigh left him.

Using that shinigami trick, Ulquiorra made it home in no time flat. He didn’t answer her text, choosing to eat before he dealt with it. Once he was done, he looked at the words on the screen of his phone. He could really fuck with her but decided not to.

_\- It’s cool. I just, you know, declared my undying love and devotion to you. I apologized for being the world’s biggest fuck up. No biggie. You probably disregard everything I say anyway. Hope you’re not feeling too terrible today._

_\- Also, I’m not treating this lightly. It’s a defense mechanism. If I have an “I don’t care” attitude about it, it won’t hurt as bad if you reject me. You have the grounds to reject me. I threw our relationship away because I was angry. I took you for granted. I don’t deserve you, but I want you back in my life._

 

***

 

Orihime had taken a shower after sending the text to Ulquiorra.  It was warm and comforting, although the climate was already warm.  She had used a bit of the soap she had nicked from his stuff before she left home for this trip.  The scent went well with the scenery. It made her miss him. After she got out of the shower, she decided that if he could post pics of a tattoo with her name on it and tag it, then a little turn about would be fair play.  She put on the skimpiest bikini in Pauletto’s collection and stood in front of a full-length mirror. She held the phone close to her navel and snapped a picture of her from her upper thighs up to her face, her free thumb hooked into the side string of the bikini bottom, pulling it down enough to reveal an unobstructed view of her number four tattoo.  She tagged Pauletto for the bikini. She tagged Ulquiorra for the tattoo. She tagged Emi the journalist with the hashtag _interview sneak preview._

Her notifications started to go insane.

So many dick pics.  So many compliments.  So many trolls were calling her a whore or a slut.  She didn't care about any of those reactions though.

She only cared about his. She wanted him to feel some of the same ache she was feeling.  She wanted him to see what he was missing; what he’d thrown away.

Then his texts came.  She didn’t know what to say to them.  If he wanted her back so badly why did he break up with her in the first place?  Being angry seemed a flimsy excuse. People got angry all the time and didn’t throw their romantic partners out on their asses.  Also, why then, would he go out to fuck some nameless woman? How did he think that would help his chances of success? To her, it all smacked of someone who just wanted her around if it was easy and convenient.  It made her feel replaceable. The tattoos were meaningless. The art was meaningless. What his motivation for those were was a mystery, but she figured it must be some form of self-soothing on his part, because dealing with her in person was clearly not on the top of his list of priorities unless he was trying to fuck her.

She sat and decided to tell him the truth.  

  * _You rejected me.  Disregard the IG pic.  I posted it before I got your last 2 msgs._



At least the texting was faster today than it had been in the past couple of weeks. He shook his head. He would deal with the notifications he was getting after he sent her the text. Ulquiorra could not do as her return text said.

 _\- I will not disregard it._ Dammit _, Woman! Do you not understand me?_

He sent another one. Maybe if he told her what happened, her memory would suddenly become clearer.

 _\- I told you I apologized. You laughed because I didn’t get laid…_ Well _, you didn’t laugh. You said I didn’t get a cookie for not being able to go through with it. I said I loved you. You laughed then rambled about some interview and some dude. I sent you the pic. You said the tattoo was cute. You said you had dick pics and I got growly because why_ woman _? Why would you tell me that? We fell asleep on the phone! Of_ course _you’re going to deny everything now that you’re sober!_

Ulquiorra decided to send one more text. Biting his lip, he tapped out a reply in an irritated manner.

_\- You told me that you thought I should see other people. You told me to do it to see if I loved you or if it was just for sex. That nameless bitch was just for sex. I could have gone and done drugs for the addictions. I don’t want to replace you with that shit._

He was a fucking glutton for punishment because he just kept digging a hole for himself.

 _\- I don’t think I can love anyone else tho. It’s you or no one. Sure I can fuck women, but it’s something to do; to pass the time. I’m never going to have an emotional attachment to_ any one _who comes after you. I don’t want to fucking experience anyone else’s love for me. I made an error in_ judgment _. I’m stupid, okay? If you’re done with me, just fucking tell me._

Orihime read his texts as they came in, chewing on her lip and scowling, trying not to cry.  Okay, so he didn’t want to have sex with that woman or did he? To her, it was not possible for him to love her and have sex with someone else, despite what she said. Maybe it was not fair. Maybe she shouldn’t have put it out there for him to do that. Maybe she hadn’t thought it through.  She never expected it to hurt this much though. Even if he hadn’t gone through with it, that he even considered it meant to her that he had been truly done with her.  Especially since the only thing that kept him from going through with it was erectile dysfunction.

  * _I’m hurt.  Do you have any idea how it felt to see those pictures?  To know that the only thing stopping you from doing it was ED?  You went out. You wooed her. You took her to the hotel. The intent was there.  I know I said to do it but… How would you feel if the tables had been turned? If it was me and some guy?  What would you do?_



 Double fucking standard. He had been duped.

_\- I see how it is. It was a trap. A trick. I would call it karma. I would get fucking pissed, but I know I deserved it. I didn’t woo anyone. I had a couple of drinks. I caught her eye. I danced one fucking song with the bitch. She said she would pay for a room. Okay. You told me to try it. You told me to do it. Don’t forget that. As much as it hurt you to tell me to go out and sleep with other people you told me to do that._

She could pull her hair out.  He didn’t get it.

  * _It wasn’t a trick.  You told me I was a drug to you.  You told me you maybe didn’t love me.  You told me you were only obsessed with me because I made you feel good.  I didn’t know what to do. I thought telling you to do that would be what was right for you.  I had no idea how much it was going to hurt me._



 Ulquiorra’s eyes went over the text several times. Did she not see what was wrong in their relationship? Did she not see how wrong that was of him to think of her that way?

_\- If I didn’t love you, I would be able to forget about you. I wouldn’t hurt right now. I wouldn’t be sitting here thinking about you. If I were not in love with you, it wouldn’t have mattered. Are you done with me? Yes or no?_

Why?  Why did it feel like the best course of action right now was to cut open her chest and pull her heart out?

  * _If I was done with you, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.  I would have let that photographer with the wandering hands do what he wanted.  I would have not stopped at the one bottle of wine and probably done something like go swimming alone in the ocean at night.  I just don’t know how to recover from this. But, you told me a while ago that you would never leave my side and that the only person who would leave this relationship would be me.  You lied. I don’t know what to do with that._



Ulquiorra wanted to throw his phone. Why was she telling him this? To hurt him more? Okay, he deserved it.

_\- Being in love means putting the other person first. I thought I did that. I want you to do well. I want you to be successful. I’m a selfish person though. I took a lot from you and barely gave anything back. Yes, I spoke pretty words, and I made promises. I want to be hopeful that maybe you’re going to give me another chance. I don’t deserve it because of how I treated you. You have every right to refuse and reject me._

A tear slipped out of his eye, and Ulquiorra wiped his face. These humans and their stupid emotions.

Orihime couldn’t believe what she was reading.  What the hell?

  * _Wait.  Are you telling me that that whole time…  the entire thing. Was it all just words?  Was any of it real?_



She couldn’t write more if she wanted to.  She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was curl up, hold on and ride out the bitterness that was choking her.

Oh no. No no no. Ulquiorra dialed her number and waited. His words were being misinterpreted.

She heard the phone buzz.  She thought it was another text.  She couldn’t see the words “incoming call”.  She pressed what she thought was the button to open the message.  She didn’t bother to censor the ragged, raw sobs that retched out of her open mouth nor the staccato gasps between them as she accidentally answered his call.

He was going to start explaining, but he heard her. Ulquiorra’s breath stopped in his throat. “Orihime?” He asked. He didn’t know if he could do this.

Of course, she didn’t hear him.  She was too loud to perceive his voice through the earpiece.  She was trying to calm herself though, attempting to calm her breathing so the tears would slow down and she might be able to see something.  The sobs stopped after thirty seconds. The sharp, involuntary inhalations took longer. In fact, they were still coming when she cleared her eyes long enough to see that the line was open.  She didn’t know who it was so in a panic she put the device to her ear.

“Hello?”

“They weren’t just words,” Ulquiorra said

A tightly wheezed, “What?” was his reply.

“I said,” Ulquiorra replied but stopped speaking because his voice cracked. “I said they weren’t just words. Everything I have said to you has been the truth, but circumstances change. You don’t have to deal with what goes on in my head Orihime, I do. I had to think about things.”

She could only manage a flutey, sniffly, hiccupping voice to respond with.  “You had to think? You had to think and break up with me… I don’t understand, Ulquiorra.” She let out a soft cry.  “I don’t understand how you can say those things and then do that. I don’t even know why. You were angry and then you weren’t.” Another hiccup.  “You came over to my place to get your stuff and kissed me. Then you left again all pissed off after I said you should find out if you loved me by falling in love with someone else.  You said no you wouldn’t. You said you were too busy to find some bitch to stick your dick into. How long did that last? Three days? A week? It wasn’t only then, either. Before that.  You wanted to die and you didn’t care how much it would hurt me. You only cared about how pissed off you were that I saved you and how I gave you shitty powers,” her voice had reduced to a whiney breath at this point.  “Your pride was more important to you than me…” Her mind was going in circles, trying to touch on all the points she had thought about since she found out about the woman from Aquamarine and before. There was a lot to deal with and she was losing focus. “What was real?”

He grit his teeth, trying not to get angry. It was clear she didn’t understand him. “I am a proud creature. I was like that as an Espada but no one noticed! Excuse me if I didn’t want to be some damsel in distress for you to save! I didn’t want to rely on you as you relied on Kurosaki all those years ago. I fell in love with you and if I hadn’t done that when I died, I would have gone to hell. This… being in love with you now and being separate from you is hell.” Ulquiorra had to pause to wipe his eyes. They burned from the tears he refused to shed. “You don’t know what it’s like to be powerless and feel the fear I felt when Grimm--”

“BULLSHIT!” it was a weak scream, honestly.  She didn’t have full use of her voice yet; it was too tight.  “That is utter bullshit! You don’t remember kidnapping a sixteen-year-old girl who only knew that her friends would die if she didn’t give up her life and follow Aizen and the Aizenettes?  I was powerless compared to you. I was nothing compared to Aizen! So don’t tell me I don’t know how it feels!” She stopped to breathe, then continued. “I don’t want to save you. I _HAVE_ to save you, because letting you die would kill me!”

“You said you weren’t afraid of me,” he said quietly, his anger fading to the background of his mind. Ulquiorra had to swallow the lump in his throat. He knew it. He knew she had been terrified of him. “I told you, I’m tired of this world. I’ve lived for a long time. I didn’t realize it would hurt you until--I just realized what you mean. You being in some other place and not nearby...” He couldn’t go on. He couldn’t say it.

“I was afraid of the situation, back then.  Not you specifically. All of it,” she said, referring to the start of the Winter War.  “I don’t know what you are trying to say now.”

A deep breath. Ulquiorra tried to calm his jilted breathing using that technique. It didn’t work. “I realized I hurt you and it’s fucking killing me. Hurting you made me realize I love you. I know I said I wanted to die. I know I was angry at you. Can you put yourself in my place? I have this thing stalking me but I can’t see him. I know he’s there though. You could see us. I couldn’t see Grimmjow. He knew it. That fucked with my already screwed up mind.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I was not born with these gifts, you know.  There was a time when I couldn’t see hollows at all.  The gift manifested slowly. Like you, I could sense things but not see them.  I was hurt by hollows but couldn’t see where they were to defend myself or run away.  I only came into my power months before we met. So yes, I have been in your place. It’s no excuse!”

Ulquiorra hung up the call. He wasn’t going to sit there and have his fears and the psychological torture that he suffered at the hands of Grimmjow be swept under the rug when he had so much other shit to deal with. He did, however, send Orihime another text.

 _\- Clearly_ , _this is too fresh for us to deal with. Call me in a couple of days or when you get back._

She growled and threw the phone into her pillows when she read his text.  Once again, he was making unilateral decisions. She picked up the phone and began typing a reply. Then she deleted it and started again.

She did this fifteen times.

Finally, she decided, fuck it.  She went down to the hotel bar, swollen eyes, and everything.  She sat there and drank water. She kept meaning to order something stronger, but she couldn’t make up her mind.  Her comfort was not in any one of those bottles. It was very late when she pulled up a picture on her phone. It was one she had snapped while they were together, a rare one of Ulquiorra looking at her camera with happy, relaxed eyes, and a wide, carefree smile.  She had taken it one day as he had been walking through their bedroom after a shower.  He looked so happy in it. It made her heart twist painfully.

What was the truth?

She wasn’t any closer to it when she finally fell into bed a couple of hours before dawn.

 

***

 

Ulquiorra sent her another text. He didn’t know when to quit. He really didn’t.

_\- I know you may not believe me. I love you Orihime. I can disassociate love and sex. It’s nothing to have sex with someone. The women that came before you were nothing. You are my everything. I never told you that. I never showed you that. Every time we’ve been together, I never considered it just sex. You showed me why it’s called making love. I took you for granted. I took our relationship for granted. I apologize for that and for hurting you. Do what you need to do. I’ll be here if you ever decide you want to talk to me again or try to work this out._

He looked at the images he had of The Woman and The Moon, his lip quivering. He was tempted to list it on a popular auction site, just to be rid of it. By the time he crawled into bed, he decided against it.

 

***

 

The next morning she woke up to his text.  It gave her mixed feelings. She didn’t respond.  It didn’t make her feel any better that he could disassociate love and sex.  She couldn’t. Yeah, he never told her those things about her being his “everything.”  He said a lot of things about her though that could mean something similar to that. Did he mean any of it though?  

The worst part was that he put the ball in her court.  Was he washing his hands? Did he think the responsibility for repairing their relationship now fell on her shoulders?  That’s how it felt. She didn’t think it was fair. It didn’t make her feel like he took this seriously. She didn’t reply.

She went to work later that morning and got reamed out for looking like a tired piece of shit.  She had no excuse. She was a tired piece of shit. She got her shoot done though; the entire time listening to Pauletto grumbling about having to pay extra to have her photos retouched.  Orihime apologized and promised to go to bed early that night. She did.

It didn’t mean she slept well.

Still the following day she looked better.  She had an early morning call and Pauletto was pleased that her face had improved and even apologized for being so cranky the day before.  He blamed it on a stomach ache. He asked Orihime to take a picture together with him for Instagram. She couldn’t really say no. He grinned a cheesy grin, flashing a peace sign in his tropical-print shirt, linen shorts and flip-flops, his wild, curly, salt-and-pepper hair sticking out in every direction in the humidity, looking like a crazy uncle on vacation with his arm draped loosely over Orihime’s shoulder.  She managed a half-smile, with one raised brow, her posture doing nothing for the white bikini she wore. There was no joy in her eyes.

She posted it to her account and tagged Pauletto.  Her stomach was sour as she thought about Ulquiorra probably seeing it.  There was nothing she could do, though. It was her job.

 

***

 

He was drunk. He was sitting at his desk, downing some dark alcohol that he’d gotten at the store. It was cheap. Ulquiorra shook his head the room shifting slightly. Orihime hadn’t answered him but she read his message. He knew that much. Now she was tagging other guys in pictures. He snorted with laughter.

It wasn’t funny. None of this was funny. He couldn’t paint. He couldn’t do anything. At this point, he didn’t care.

Dialing her number, Ulquiorra brought his phone up to his ear and then put his forehead against the flat surface in front of him. He needed to talk to her. He needed to hear her voice. It was a fucked up mentality but he didn’t know how to cope with this. He didn’t know how to deal with all of this.

He could pinpoint the location of the shinigami. He could pinpoint where the Quincy was at. He could feel the spiritual pressure of every person with a flicker of spiritual power in them. He hated it. It was over-fucking-whelming. She was supposed to be at his side, helping him wade through all of this new stuff. He was used to dealing with Ceros and Sonidos; dark energy… Not shinigami powers.

Orihime was walking back to her room when the call came in.  She fumbled with her phone and answered. She knew who it was before she checked.  Nobody else called her. He had probably seen the picture.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he said. Ulquiorra had to work hard for his voice not to slur. “You’re looking nice.”

“No, I’m not.  I got yelled at for looking tired.  You sound tired.”

Ulquiorra shrugged. “Eh, happens when you don’t sleep and drink. Is that man--” He had to fucking man up and take responsibility. “Is that man your--Is that your boss?”

“Ulquiorra, you’ve met Pauletto a dozen times at least.  Yeah, okay, he looks kind of like a Mediterranean troll doll these days but it’s the same guy.  He bought us drinks after Markus hired us. Don’t you remember him?”

A sigh of relief came out of his mouth. “I’m drunk. I’m very, very, very drunk,” he said. “I want to see you when you come back.”

A sigh of exasperation came from her.  “So is this what I sounded like the other night?  Because if it is you are not going to remember a word of this conversation tomorrow.” She wasn’t amused, but she wasn’t annoyed either.  She honestly couldn't be mad about this. It’s exactly what she wanted to do two nights ago.

“Nah, voice was slurry and you were loud,” he replied. “I miss you. I love you. I’m sorry I was an asshole to you. I was scared. This entire thing is frightening; falling in love with you; letting you into my life; dying… Fuck it. Sorry I called.”

“Okay,” she said.  She didn’t hang up.  She kept walking through the hotel lobby toward the stairs.  She didn’t want to run the risk of losing reception on the elevator.  Her room was only on the third floor anyway. “You _are_ slurry and loud, though.”  This was a drunken, rambling non-apology apology.  Maybe he had more things to get off his chest while he was at it.  She didn’t have plans. She could let him drone on. Maybe the booze would make him honest?  Who knows. She wanted to find out.

“I’m not slurry. I’m never loud. I’m not angry at you. I was pissed off at Kurosaki! His damn words!” He picked up his head up then drained his glass. “It’s not good for me to be jealous. It's how I got locked in that fucking Caja Negacion. I want you here. I want to hold you. I want to tell you things.”

“What do you want to tell me?” she asked, pulling her card key out of her lock, slightly out of breath from the stairs, and going into her room.

He picked up the almost empty bottle, clanking it against his glass. “Uh, I was horrible to you. I love you. God, Woman--” Ulquiorra had to choke back a sob which failed. He vowed he would never drink again. He hated what it did to him. “Are you happy where you’re at? I mean there… Thailand? Are you happy there?”

“No.  I’m miserable,” she stated.  It was a simple truth. She spoke it simply.

“Oh. Me too. I wanted to tell you things. You won’t believe me.”

She flopped down on her bed on top of the blankets.  “Try me.”

“You’re right. I didn’t think of how much my death would hurt you. I didn’t think at all. I made it all about me. I was acting like a wounded thing because my pride was hurt. Stupid, huh?” he asked. He put the bottle down on the desk but it almost went crashing to the floor because he hadn’t put it all the way onto the piece of furniture. “Oops.”

“Careful.  Don’t make a mess.  You don’t like messes,” she murmured.  She had heard the rattling. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid though, I guess.”

He huffed. “Novelist says I have to give you more than orgasms to make this work. I’ve got to let you further in. You’re my steady stream of endorphins. Looking at you makes me happy. I liked all your pictures--” He hiccuped. The effects of more alcohol loosened his tongue. Ulquiorra felt like he could say anything to her. “I gave them all my heart.”

“You did?  Thank you.”  He was plowed.  He was completely bombed out of his skull.  He shouldn’t be doing that. Not with his issues with his body.  She stifled a sigh. It wouldn’t help anything to make him feel bad about it now.  He’d probably not remember it if she lectured him, and she didn’t want to anyway. He’d feel bad enough as it was in the morning with the hangover he’d likely have.  Then again, maybe his regeneration abilities extended to his liver. Lucky duck in that case. “Did you have a favorite picture?”

This brought a smile to his face. “All of them. The small bikini and the tattoo. Your smiling face. The thousand yard stare. All of the ones I’ve taken of you,” he replied. Ulquiorra felt his brain start feeling fuzzy. It was nice feeling that sensation again. “Hime? How did I make you feel? Did I make you feel special? Loved?”

“Sometimes, I think so. You are the only person who has ever… I thought you felt passion for me.  I thought I was your queen sometimes.” Her guts felt cold. It was a very hard thing to talk about.  She had thought she was special to him but after he dumped her each time she had to wonder if he meant any of the things he had said to her.  He had said the tattoos and the art were about her or for her, but when it came down to actually being with her, he couldn’t handle it. She twisted her mouth and stopped talking.

“I love you. Everything was real. I don’t want to forget you. I don’t know what passion is. Maybe it’s this obsessed feeling I have for you. Maybe it’s the overwhelming need to be by you,” Ulquiorra fell silent as he took another drink from the glass. The liquid had stopped burning a long time ago. “This bottle is almost empty. I told myself not to call you. You’re right. I do whatever the fuck I want. Heh.”

“Ulquiorra, how much did you drink?  Are you going to be alright?” The worry in her voice was plain.  She didn’t know much he could take; she’d never seen him have more than one or two drinks per night.

“Bottle is almost gone. I’ll be fine. I’ve drank a lot more than this,” he said. “I panicked, Orihime.”

“What did you panic about?” she was starting to feel dread.  What had he done? Was there more to this? Did she need to come back?

Ulquiorra sighed. “Me. You. Us. Dying. My new powers. I could have stayed in that dark place. I wanted to come back to you. That voice told me it would all be different. I’m not sure of my place now.”

Orihime released the bottom of the breath that she had held in anxiety.  He was just drunk, she realized, profoundly relieved. It didn’t stop the tear the streaked down her face, though.  “Whose voice did you hear, Ulquiorra?”

“I don’t know. It was after Grimmjow put his hand through me. Everything was black. I was warm. It asked me what I was thinking. I thought it was a dream. You matter more than I do. You have friends. I only have you, and I don’t even have that now..” The sob that came from him this time was unrestrained and raw. “I’m sorry. Sorry. I should… I shouldn’t bother you.”

“Ulquiorra, you’re not making any sense.  You have friends. You’d have more if you didn’t push everyone away.  People like you. Don’t fabricate a tragic reality for yourself. Real life is hard enough.”  She was not in the business of attending his self-pity party or anyone else’s. “Besides, who do I matter to?  Quin. Maybe you on the occasions you want me to matter. That’s it. Do you think Kurosaki would care if I died?  Do you think Urahara or Pauletto or anybody else would? No! They’d be like, “oh that’s a shame, she was young.” and go about their lives.  Nobody would else care. I don’t know if you’re expecting a parade of roses or something, but most people are selfish.”

The sad things that were rolling around in his head morphed into irritation and anger. “You always do this. You invalidate my feelings just because I’m feeling sorry for myself. Boohoo it’s all about poor innocent Orihime! Do you like playing the fucking victim?” He slammed his glass down on the desk. It was unfortunate that he did that — the precarious position he had placed the bottle sent it crashing to the floor.

Orihime sighed.  “Be careful,” she said in an even tone.  “And no, do I sound like a victim to you?  I’m just stating the truth. I am not upset or bothered that a whole bunch of people wouldn’t care if I died.  It is what it is. It’s not something that bothers me. I only care about what the people I love think.” She breathed heavily through her nostrils and shook her head.  He probably would misconstrue this, too.

He looked at the broken bottle on the floor and the rest of the liquid that was seeping into the wood floor, with dull green eyes. He didn’t give a fuck that he’d made a mess. “Sometimes you do. I wanted to make sure you were safe. I was willing to die for you again.”

A heavy sigh.  Then another. “What good would it do for me to live without you?”  The question came on a rough whisper. She didn’t really want to say it, but it came out anyway.  She knew if he heard it, she would be proving his point. Still, it was how she really felt. If he heard it, he heard it.  “I don’t want you to die for me. I wanted you to live for me. To live _with_ me. You invalidate my feelings when you say that because I have these other people in my life that supposedly care for me that it should make it okay for you to die and me to have to live the rest of my life without you.  You…” she was running out of courage to keep speaking. Her mind was going to dark places.

“I FIGURED YOU’D BE HAPPIER!” The words left him louder than he intended. “You’d be able to have a normal relationship. Not being dragged down by a fuckboy; a mental case; a drug addict.”

“You were never any of those things to me.  You stopped being a fuckboy the day you swore me your brand loyalty, remember?  You’ve never done drugs that I have seen. I can’t say anything toward your mental status. But here’s the rub:  did it never occur to you that I might be broken too? That if you died, I might not have anything to live for? Nothing worth hanging on to?”  She bit her lower lip hard. It sounded melodramatic when it was put into words. Still, didn’t he understand? If he had died, she wouldn’t have survived the week.

This was new information. Ulquiorra felt his chin quivering again. He never expected her to say that. “Just because you’ve never seen me do them doesn’t mean I’m not an addict,” he said quietly. “I’m going to go. I’ve got some stuff to think about.” He didn’t hang up though.

All he could hear was her breathing through the phone for a half a minute, until she finally took a quick breath and said, softly, with an unguarded bit of sad affection, “Okay. Be careful about the glass, alright?  Get some rest, too. I know how you can get wrapped up in your thoughts and not sleep. You’re still human, though.”

Could he say it? Should he? “I don’t want to sleep without you,” he finally mumbled.

Her heart warmed and her sinuses burned.  “Okay. Go lay down. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

“We did that the other night. Woke up the next day feeling great. Orihime,” Ulquiorra said. He stood up and gingerly walked over the bits of glass. The room swayed as he walked over to the ladder. There was no way he was getting up that. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”  She wasn’t sure if he meant staying on the phone the other night or something else.

“I’m sorry for ruining us.” Ulquiorra sat down in front of the ladder with a thump.

She wanted to tell him that he hadn’t; that there was still hope for them, but she didn’t want to sound like she was making a promise to him that she might not be able to keep.  She cried silently as the weight of his words settled around her. “It feels that way, doesn’t it?” she finally said. He’d be able to hear the tightness in her voice, but she thought she did a decent job covering up the tears.  Then she took another uneven breath. “But we’re both still here.”

“I made you cry again. I’m always doing that. Did it as an Espada. Doing it as a human. I don’t deserve you.” Ulquiorra sighed and let his head call against a rung of the ladder. “Your voice gives you away when you’re about to cry. I think… I don’t know.”

A dry laugh.  “I’ll tell you a secret, Ulquiorra.  Nobody deserves anyone. We love. We choose to accept or reject love. That’s all there is to it.  I am crying. You know me.”

He closed his eyes. “Will you let me see you when you come back?”

“Yes.”  There was no hesitation.  “We need to talk.”

“We’ve been talking. No one’s listening though.”

“I’m listening.  Not agreeing and not listening aren’t the same thing.”  She paused. “But you know what? Let’s put off any more talking and listening until you’re sober, okay?  For now, do you want to tell me about your day or just close your eyes or tell me about something weird you saw or read?” He needed sleep. Talking about their relationship was probably only going to rile him up more.

He let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve sat around and moped all day. I’m supposed to be painting. I’ve got nothing.” Ulquiorra was having trouble breathing. It felt like a band was tightening around his chest. That panicky feeling was starting in the pit of his stomach. She didn’t want to talk to him about them. His alcohol soaked brain was telling him all sorts of stuff. Stuff that probably wasn’t true.

“If you can’t paint, maybe display some of your photography? You have some really beautiful still lifes and city scenes and portraits.  I always liked looking at your photography.” She sensed his despair. She wanted to help.

He scoffed. “I’m not a photographer,“ Ulquiorra replied. “I just like taking pictures of you.”

“It’s just an idea.  Something for if all else fails. As long as you’re alive and have the use of your body, there’s always hope, you know?” she chuckled softly.  “I used to tell myself that all the time. When I was younger. When I was in Las Noches. When I first started living with Quin. All the times when I felt powerless and like I couldn’t get anything right.”

Was she saying he had a chance? His brow furrowed but Ulquiorra was too drunk to contemplate anything. He was way past that point of deep conversations. He was at the point of ramble and maybe pass out mid-word. He could feel that black wave of sleep coming towards him. “Hey,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I love--” Ulquiorra dropped off. He passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments and kudos!


	30. Let's Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much of this chapter was added later and inspired by readers' comments. We hope we met and pushed through expectations. Please let us know!

His head hurt. The phone was dead. He was cold and for some reason woke up sitting on the floor in front of the ladder. Fuck. There was also a broken bottle on the floor. The sour smell of whatever he’d been drinking hung in the air. Ugh. Ulquiorra’s stomach turned. Luckily he was close by the bathroom. After attempting to heave the contents of his stomach into the toilet, he brushed his teeth and drank a glass of water. He needed coffee too.

His phone was still dead.

Where the fuck were those things for a headache?

The coffee did not help. It made him want to rush back to the bathroom. When he emerged again, he just sat in the armchair and looked at the dull sky. He knew he called Orihime last night. He knew he said stuff. Ulquiorra sighed, unsatisfied with himself.

 

***

 

Orihime had held onto the receiver the night before, not quite comfortable leaving him unsupervised until she was satisfied that his breathing had leveled out to a calm, regular pattern.  It took nearly twenty minutes for the breath holding, teeth grinding and gasping to taper off. She waited another twenty until she felt like he was probably not going to choke on his own tongue and ended the call.  

Tokyo was two hours ahead of Phuket, so it wasn’t as late for her.  Someone knocked on her door not long after she disconnected the call.  She got up and looked out the peephole and saw the face of Pauletto’s personal assistant.  She opened the door quickly. The assistant wore a frantic expression.

“What happened?  Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.  Pauletto’s in the hospital.  We’re cancelling the shoot tomorrow morning.  We’re having an emergency meeting at 11:00 in the morning in Conference Room A.  Attendance is mandatory. We’ll let you know what is going on then. Don’t be late, okay?  I know you never are, but please just make sure you’re there,” the young man said, already walking to the next door and knocking on it.

“I will,” Orihime said, closing her door.  She had a hard time falling asleep.

The next morning she woke up feeling alright and with ample time on her hands.  She ate some fruit and took a shower. She contemplated texting Ulquiorra, but she needed time to think.  She was distracted worrying about Pauletto. She was more worried about Ulquiorra. She waited until nearly noon Tokyo time to send him a message.

  * __I hope you’re not feeling too terrible this morning.  I was worried about you last night. Please let me know if you’re alright once you are awake.__



He had been dozing in the chair, curled into a ball when he heard his phone chime. He didn’t want to get up to retrieve it. Ulquiorra had plugged it in before he had gotten the cup of coffee. Whoever it was texting him, they could wait… What if it was Orihime? With a grunt he unfolded his legs and stood on shaky legs. He still felt drunk. He practically collapsed into his office chair when he got to the desk.

Ulquiorra read her text. If she was texting him, whatever he had said must have not been that bad. Though, knowing his ex-girlfriend, she had a good heart and would text him even if she hated him. She said she hated Kurosaki but she still cared about him. Maybe he was interpreting things wrongly.

_\- I’m dying. That’s what it feels like. Sorry I bothered you last night._

Orihime read his message.  She was afraid he might feel like this. No, she was sure he would.  He never drank that much.

  * __I’m sorry to hear that.  Don’t step on the broken glass.  Isn’t your cleaning lady coming today?  I’m sure she wouldn’t mind helping you clean it up.  Take an aspirin and drink some water slowly. Eat something plain.  Slowly.__



 She never addressed his apology.

  -  _ _Call it even for my drunken tirade from the other night?__

 He looked around for this broken glass she mentioned but saw nothing that indicated there had been anything like that. Ulquiorra glanced at the time on his phone. The cleaning lady had already been there.

_\- She already cleaned it up. I’ve been asleep most of the morning. The thing about your drunk tirade and mine is I remember what I said to you._

Oh.  Well.  That was different.

  * _Oh.  Well, that is unexpected.  I’m on my way to a meeting now.  Pauletto came down with something and is in the hospital so we’re having this emergency meeting to find out how he’s doing.  It’s all very nerve-wracking. Also, if you remember what you said then you know you don’t need to apologize. You didn’t say anything bad._



 Ulquiorra rubbed his forehead. Of course he had to apologize. He had no reason to bother her.

 - _I should respect boundaries. I shouldn’t have called and subjected you to my inane rambling. I shouldn’t be fighting for you to come back when I pushed you away._

She didn’t have a chance to respond before the meeting started.  The group was informed that Pauletto had suffered acute appendicitis and would be in the hospital for a few days recovering.  Production would be halted and everyone would be sent back early, in waves. Talent would be the first to go back, then production crews, then support staff.  The shots missed would have to be rescheduled to a later date and time, and probably in a different location.

Most everyone was disappointed. Nobody wanted to leave Phuket.  Nobody except Orihime. She had mixed feelings about it. Yes, it was a paradise, but the uncertainty surrounding her and Ulquiorra’s relationship meant she was not free to enjoy it.  Despite her best efforts, she found herself focusing on the green-eyed man more often than not.

She found out that her flight was set to leave at seven that evening.  It was about an eight-hour flight to Haneda from Phuket with a stopover in Bangkok.  She didn’t have a lot of time to get ready to leave. She packed as quickly as possible and ate something, and as she was in line to get onto a bus to take her to the airport, she responded to Ulquiorra's first.  She ignored the words from his last text. She felt addressing them would only incite an argument.

  * _We agreed to talk when I get back.  I don’t know if you remember. Let me know if you still want to.  I may not be able to reply anymore today, I’m going where there’s going to be limited reception_.



She wasn’t sure if she should tell him she was on her way home.  It might put too much pressure on them.

He found the painkillers. He drank another glass of water. He didn’t have anything to really eat in the apartment, so he skipped that step. It didn’t really matter. He didn’t want to move from the armchair. His phone was cradled in his lap. He’d been waiting for a text back.

\- _Can you come to my place or we can meet somewhere else? This hangover is brutal. I feel really shitty. I have nothing to eat here and there’s no way I’m walking down that many flights of stairs_.

She was confused by his message when she got into her seat on the airport shuttle bus.

  * __I’m still in Thailand.  I hope your hangover is better by the time I return to Japan.__



_\- I know where you’re at. I’m saying when you get here. Whenever you get here. I know you’re scheduled to be there for like a week. You’re going to be back for a couple days then jetting off to Russia or whatever it was._

Ulquiorra sent the text and decided to take a shower. That might make him feel better; at least it would make him feel slightly more human.

She lost reception soon after she sent her last text and didn’t get it again until she was at the airport.  The bus arrived late and she was herded into security while support staff checked her luggage. Cell phone use was not permitted in the security line.  Before she knew it she was on a plane.

An hour and a half later and she was sitting on a tarmac in Bangkok and turned her phone on.  She read his message and wondered if he was still awake. It was nearly eleven at night in Tokyo already.  She wrote back anyway.

  * __Yeah.  Your place will be fine. I have a feeling we’ll need to be somewhere with minimal interruptions.__



When he got out of the shower, Ulquiorra looked at her message. He walked over to his computer and sat down, tapping a few keys. The screen lit up and he quickly typed in what he was searching for. He didn’t know if there was even a way to repair their relationship this time. There would be no friend period. There would be no dates this time. The trust Orihime had in him was probably shattered and sure, he could repair it but the cracks would still be visible.

He sent her a message in return.

\- _Okay. Just give me a heads up when you want to talk, I guess. You probably have stuff to take care of when you get home. I understand that. I’m not a priority._

She sighed.  He had absolutely no clue. Not that it was a good thing at this point, probably, but he was the only thing besides work that occupied her mind.

“Miss, please turn off your phone, we’re about to take off in a moment.”

“Okay, can I just--?”

“No, I’m sorry, I must insist,” the flight attendant said firmly.  He meant it.

Orihime sighed and turned off her phone.

 

***

 

It was almost six in the morning when her plane touched down at Haneda.  She hadn’t slept well during the flight. She was exhausted and she looked terrible.  She still had nearly an hour on a train in front of her, and that was after she got through immigration and customs.  

Ulquiorra jerked awake and sat up in bed as he felt it. He looked around and then up at the ceiling. Orihime. That was her spiritual pressure. She was back? His brow furrowed. She wasn’t supposed to be back yet. What happened? Five minutes passed and he could feel her reiatsu getting closer. It was faint but still, he felt it. They were linked together. What the fuck was she doing back? It was too soon.

He got out of bed, throwing on jeans and a hoodie. She wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t take him long to get to her apartment building. He would wait here for her.

It was nearly quarter to nine when she got out of the cab in front of her place.  She paid the driver and waited for her things. She could feel Ulquiorra’s spiritual pressure around.  It was faint. He was probably still in bed, sleeping. Usually she couldn’t feel him when he was awake unless he decided to let his reiatsu seep out a bit; he was still concerned about Grimmjow finding him.  She smiled as the familiar energy surrounded her. She had missed it. Probably that was the reason she could detect it now, since she was used to not being around him.

She turned toward the door after getting her things and saw him.  “You’re here,” she gasped, her eyes widening.

Ulquiorra was unimpressed as he stood against the building with his arms folded. He had seen the smile on her face. “Of course I am. I felt you. Did you forget that our spiritual pressure is linked? I’ve been waiting here for a while.”

She looked at him with a small, contrite smile and pinched brows.  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure whether to tell you I was coming back now; it was kind of last minute.  Pauletto was hospitalized and production was halted, and I was sent home… It’s been kind of a whirlwind. I was going to tell you but I didn’t want to put pressure on you to see me right away.  I thought you’d be sleeping and I could tell you when you woke up.” She made eye contact with him for a moment. “It’s good to see your face, though.”

The anger he was feeling melted away. She had been thinking about him. She had been considerate of his feelings and his habits. Ulquiorra shook his head. He was such an ass. “Can I help with anything? Do you want help? I’ve been here for about an hour, I felt you close by and woke up. I thought it was another one of those dreams.”

She sighed.  “I should have known. I’m sorry.  I’m still not used to you being spiritually aware again.  Well, since you’re here and offering, you could help me with one of these,” she said, gesturing to her bags, “And you can have a cup of coffee if you want.  I’m going to need to sleep soon, though. I’ve been traveling for the past thirteen hours and I haven’t gotten a lot of rest.”

Ulquiorra grabbed all of her bags, waving off her protests. She looked like she’d been through hell but he wasn’t going to say that. “I’ll pass on the coffee if you want to go to bed. I just had to make sure you were okay.”

She closed her eyes, pressing them shut as her heart lurched and warmed her chest.  She had felt the same way the other night on the phone. She had been worried. She hadn’t wanted to let him pass out alone.  She opened the lobby door and waited until he brought the bags in to respond.

“I know how that is.  Hey,” she said, waiting for him to turn and face her.

With a deep breath, Ulquiorra finally lifted his gaze to look at the redhead. “Yeah?” he replied. He didn’t know why he was feeling scared or like she was going to reject him.

She saw the fear in his eyes.  She didn’t want to give him false hopes or anything, but she was Orihime, and Orihime followed her heart.  She closed the three steps between them and gave him a light hug. “Thanks for caring.”

He froze and when his brain registered what she was doing, Ulquiorra was glad that he had his arms full of stuff because he would have wrapped them around her and never let go. “You’re welcome. It’s what any friend would do, right?” He stepped back from her and peered at Orihime.

A couple of tears were hanging out at the inner corners of her eyelids, and she gave him a wry smile, before looking around the apartment, “Well, you don’t see Quin here, do you?  Then again, he probably heard about Pauletto already. He’s such a gossip.” She wiped her eyes and shook her head. “Anyway, I know we said we’d talk but I know you’re busy with your show this weekend and the last time we talked when you were sober didn’t exactly go well.  I meant it when I said I didn’t want to pressure you. I’m not even supposed to be here, so…” she trailed off, not really wanting to take the lead here. She was tired and unsure what he was thinking.

Ulquiorra didn’t want to tell her what he had done. For the first time in four years, C. Murcielago had canceled a show, citing illness as a reason that he could not fulfill his contractual obligation. The art world was dying for some news on what would make the introverted artist cancel a show. “Yeah, the show. It’s fine, Orihime. No pressure,” he said. “Let’s go up to your apartment. You look like you’re about to fall over. We can speak when you’re rested.”

She smiled and nodded.  Her heart screamed at her to beg him to stay and hash it out now, but luckily her brain overruled.  It would not do to talk in the physical state she was in. She’d be melodramatic or overly forgiving.  She needed to be fully functional to have the conversation they needed to have. “Okay. Well, I may go to school later this week, but I’ve arranged my work so I don’t have to go.  I’d just go to work on my collection. Otherwise I have absolutely nothing going on until I have to go to Russia. That’s if Pauletto is better by then. So, I guess I’m saying that I expect to be up to it from tomorrow so whenever you’re ready, let me know.”

He was silent as they walked to her apartment door. He waited for her to go inside before he put everything in the genkan. He didn’t step foot into the apartment though. “Text me,” he stated. “I’ll always make time for you Orihime. I hope you know that.”

“Alright.  Good night, Ulquiorra,” she shook her head and laughed at herself. “Have a nice day, I mean.”

He flashed a small smile at her flub. “Have a good sleep,” Ulquiorra replied. He didn’t move though. The only thing going through his brain was to touch Orihime or kiss her.

“Thanks. It’ll be nice to be back in my own bed, I think,” she felt compelled to make conversation when he just stood there.

His mouth opened but immediately closed it. It wouldn’t do to tell her he missed her bed. Instead, Ulquiorra nodded. “I should go and leave you be,” he glanced at her then looked away. The dark-haired male did this several times before he just sighed. He needed to move for her to shut the door.

She wanted to hug him again.  She wanted to ask him to stay and hold her while she slept.  She knew that would be totally stupid. She just waited. She might have to push him out of the door though, if he didn’t make a move.  “Ulquiorra, are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah,” he said before swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. It was only a couple of steps that separated them from each other. He took them. He cupped her face and tilted it up, staring at her before he let his mouth brush against hers. His eyes closed, enjoying the touch. He had kissed her in this very same apartment when he came to get his stuff that he had left there.

He broke the kiss and then turned around. He shouldn’t have done that. He was getting his hopes up. Ulquiorra took a deep breath before he stepped back out in the hallway. “Like I said, text me.”

She wasn’t exactly stunned or surprised at what he had done. He had told her he still loved her and missed her several times during his drunken phone call.  Her fingers brushed her lips as she watched him leave. “I will,” she called after him softly and shut the door.

He used flash step to get home quickly appearing in his apartment less than five minutes after he left hers. Ulquiorra leaned against the door with his chest heaving. He had been so sure she would have smacked him or told him no. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He shouldn’t have invaded her personal space. He should have just stayed in his place.

Ulquiorra decided not to be a dick. He decided to show her appreciation.

_\- Thank you._

Orihime had dragged her bags into her room and was taking off her clothes and getting into bed when she got his text.  It confused her  in a pleasant way.

  * __For what?__



He bit his lip as he made himself a cup of coffee. Why did she have to question what he was doing?

\- _Not smacking me. For not screaming at me. For that moment of touch._

She smiled when she read his message.  He was so weird. Maybe it was sleep-deprivation but she felt like just telling him how she really felt without worrying.

  * __Thanks for coming to see me.  I love you.__



She _almost_ sent it like that.  At the last moment she deleted the last three words and modified the message.

  * _Thanks for coming to see me.  I’ll talk to you soon_.



 

***

 

Hirano was currently yelling at him on the phone. Ulquiorra sat there rolling his eyes and tapping the desk. After he calmed down, he went to the store and picked himself up some stuff that he needed around the loft. Paper towels, food, coffee, creamer, and sugar. He stopped by a wine shop that he had seen numerous times and asked for some recommendations. The salesperson let him sample the wine and Ulquiorra bought a bottle. It was good. He needed it to pair well with the chocolate he had ordered. At one point in time Orihime said he needed to learn what romance was. He knew what it was but it seemed to be a waste of time with the women that came before her.

When he got back to the loft, Hirano had called, bitching about his canceled appearance.  He listened to her bitch, becoming more and more irritated as her words cut into his good mood.

“You want me to give up the shit I’ve worked on? It’s fucking horrible. It’s not art. It looks like a child fucking fingerpainted canvases and got a pat on the head,” Ulquiorra snapped.

“No C, I want you to get your head out of your ass. You’re going to throw your entire career away for a woman?”

“You have no right--”

“I do. You are my paycheck. You are my source of income so I--”

Ulquiorra hung up the phone and felt like spiking it against the floor. It was bullshit. He was just taking a much needed break. He had to get his head together. He had to find his muse again. Why couldn’t people understand that? He needed only one person to understand that.

Orihime.

Why had he kissed her? Why was he chasing after her? Why had he bought her chocolate and wine? What would come next? Flowers? Roses? He thought about the other thing he had bought for her before shaking his head. He didn’t want to think about that right now. It wouldn’t help his mood lift or get better. Ulquiorra sighed as he sat at the desk.  

Orihime woke up at about six in the evening.  She unpacked her things and took a shower and redressed.  She started on some laundry. She went through the bags of souvenirs she had bought while she was in Thailand. Each day she had downtime and did a little sightseeing around the resort.  The day and a half before Pauletto got sick she  had a lot of free time. She looked in the mirror at the souvenir she had gotten for herself. She shook her head. It was stupid. At least it was pretty.  

Uryu came home as she was hanging laundry and was pleased to see her.  He gave her a little hug and asked how everything had gone and what really happened with Pauletto.  They ate a salad and caught up. He invited her to come out to Aquamarine. She refused. He asked if it had anything to do with Ulquiorra.

“No, why?”

“I know he was here, Boo.  I can feel his spiritual pressure on you.  What’s going on?”

Orihime sighed.  “I don’t know. He called me completely drunk a few days ago apologizing and telling me he loved me and--”

Uryu scoffed. “Oh?  Is that why Kurosaki and Yui watched him go off to bang the bank teller?”

“Is that what she really is?”

“Yep.”

“Figures,” she laughed.  She and Quin had once got drunk at home and jokingly made a list of arbitrary stereotypes of people based on their professions, and one of the stereotypes listed was that young women who worked as bank tellers and hair stylists were slutty.  “Well, really Quin, I don’t know what is going to happen. We have a lot to talk about.”

Ishida was not pleased.  “I can’t tell you what to do.  I just worry about you.”

“I know.  I love you, too, Quin,” she said in a voice that an embarrassed kid would use.

Ishida smirked.  “Don’t forget it, Kiddo.”

After Quin left, Orihime changed her laundry and got onto her phone.  She looked at those pictures of Ulquiorra and the bank teller again. It still hurt.  She needed to let her spiritual pressure release a bit. Maybe she could even attract a small hollow and kick its ass.  Or watch the Shibuya shinigami do it. That chick was lazy anyway. She laid down and let her irritation float along her invisible, golden ribbon of reiatsu that stretched out in all directions.  She decided she had better warn Ulquiorra so he didn’t worry.

  * __Don’t mind me.  Quin got under my skin.  He’s gone now but I need to vent a bit.__



He’d been dozing in that armchair again when he felt her spiritual pressure spike. Then his phone vibrated. Ulquiorra read the message, frowning.

\- _Want to talk about it? I mean over text while you’re doing whatever it is. I think the Koenji shinigami just fell off the roof._

  * _Sorry about that.  I think it’s something better talked about in person later, I think.  I’m thinking I should waste a little hollow. Bad idea, huh?_



 He scoffed. It seemed reckless, not stupid.

 - _I know how you feel. Hirano kinda bitched at me earlier. I don’t think you should do it... but… I can’t tell you what to do. Do what you need to do. I’ll be here for you. It’s reckless and careless. I can feel everything you’re doing. I don’t want you to get hurt._

 She sighed.  She pulled it back.

  *   _ _You’re right.  It’s selfish. Sorry to bug you.__



 His mouth twisted to the side. How was she bugging him?

 - _Don’t. It’s comforting. You’re not bugging me. I still miss you_.

 She sent out another pulse, letting it linger a bit before pulling it back.  Her phone buzzed.

  *   _Whatever you’re doing, knock it off.  It’s distracting. I’m trying to get laid, here_.



 She laughed and sent a message to Ulquiorra.

  *   _ _I’ve been admonished.  Apparently I’m cockblocking Quin.  Lol.__



 

 His face broke out into a full smile which he took a picture of. He let his teeth worry his lower lip before he decided to send the picture to her along with his own ribbon of reiatsu. He knew his spiritual pressure was somewhat darker than hers. Sometimes it felt heavy to him.

\- _Thanks for the laugh._

She smiled.  She got the message, the picture, and the spiritual pressure at the same time.  She didn’t send a picture back, but she returned his text.

  * __Thanks for the spirit hug.  Good night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?__



 Ulquiorra sent a stronger flick of reiatsu to her. It was risky but he wanted her to know how he felt right now.

  _\- Anytime._

She let his soul wrap around her and coiled her own around it in a kind of metaphysical handhold.

  * __Get some rest.__



   _\- Took a nap. You get some sleep._

 He sent the message, feeling that flood of warmth go throughout his body.

  _\- You’re doing things to me, you know_.

 She let go.

  *   _ _Sorry.  But to be fair, you were just hanging out here.  Your SP was anyway. It’s nice, you know. It’s still you from before.  But it’s nice. Thought you might like to know.__



Ulquiorra contemplated calling her. She probably wouldn’t appreciate it but at this point he didn’t care. He could send her a video call. He shook his head. He had just seen her earlier that day. With a sigh, he climbed up to his bedroom and sat down on the bed. He tapped on the phone icon. Might as well get it out of his system.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you busy?”

“No.  What are you doing?”

“Sitting in my room,” Ulquiorra said. “You?”

“Same.  In my room,” she replied.  “Everything alright?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, just wanted to hear your voice. You don’t mind, do you? I mean I can understand if you do but… I figured that little SP play...”

She chuckled.  “I wasn’t playing. It’s in my nature to soothe.”

Ulquiorra gave a drawn-out sigh. “Orihime, today has left me confused. I want to see you again.”

“What are you confused about?  I mean, don’t you think you ought to know how you feel before you see me again?”  She bit her lip and frowned.

“I know how I feel,” he answered. “I’m confused by you. Why the hug? Why did you let me kiss you? Why this?”

“Why do you think?  I mean, just because things between us are not right doesn’t mean I don’t still have feelings for you.  They don’t just go away,” she answered. She sounded somewhere between frustrated and calmly resigned.

He closed his eyes and flopped back onto the bed. “I know. I’m quite aware that they don’t go away. I’m struggling with how I’m feeling for you. I have to restrain myself from texting you or calling. I was going to do a video call with you.”

She inhaled slowly through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth.  “I understand the impulse and I assure you you’re not alone but I’m glad you didn’t.  If there is anything we should have learned it’s that our... _sexual_ attraction to one another only distracts us from the issues that keep tearing us apart. I don’t expect it to go away but if we indulge it it’s going to make everything else harder, I guess.  I dunno. I just know we’re still not better than we were while I was in Thailand, are we?”

“No, probably not. I know that I regret hurting you. I know that I didn’t give you enough of myself. I know that we have a lot of history.” Ulquiorra opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. “Why do we need to wait to talk? Why can’t we do it right now?”

“I need a day to decompress from travel and gather all my thoughts. Right now I’m just relieved to be back and to feel your presence.  If I tried to talk to you now I would probably roll over and pretend everything is fine when it isn’t.”

Ah, that’s what was holding this up. “Wanna tell me why Quin got to you today?” Ulquiorra asked.

“He told me about the woman you met at Aquamarine.  Did you know she’s a bank teller?”

Fuck. Of course Ishida was putting his nose where it didn’t belong. “The conversation between us did not cover occupations. It was hey, how are you, wanna dance? That was it besides the other stuff.” He didn’t see why this was a problem. “Why?”

“It really doesn’t matter. It could have been anyone, that’s not the point.  It just remains that it happened. But that’s what Quin said that made me flare my reiatsu.”  Her tone was subdued.

“How many times do I need to apologize for fucking up? How many times do I need to say I am sorry for doing what you said?” Ulquiorra felt resigned. He knew he made his bed and now he had to lie in it.

“I don’t know.  I don’t think apologies are what are needed.  I don’t know. This is new territory for me. I just know that…” She sighed a big sigh. “We shouldn’t talk about this until we…  Until we’re ready to duke it out.”

Tch. Of course she wanted to sit and stew. “Okay. Goodnight then.”

His disappointing response only solidified her resolve. “Goodnight,” she said, a trace of disappointment evident.  She hung up.

 

***

 

Hirano called the next morning. “C, great news.”

 “Coming from you nothing is great news Hirano.”

 “I got the show postponed. You have a week to shit art out of your ass,” the PR woman stated. The threat was implied.

 “Okay, fine. What time?” Ulquiorra listened to the woman bark the time of the opening and the deadline when the art needed to be at the gallery. It was obvious that Hirano didn’t understand he needed a break.

 When he got done talking to her, he turned back to his computer where he was answering various offers to model which all got the thumbs down. He wasn’t a model. He didn’t want to model. Modeling was just for Orihime’s benefit. He was done with it.

 

***

 

Orihime woke up angry.  He had been angry that he may have to apologize.  To her it felt like he must think she should just be over his indiscretion and that she should sweep it under the rug.  She decided she needed another day to work out how she felt. Unless he insisted, she was planning on going into school and getting some work done.

 Quin was coming out of a class as she walked into her studio.  “Hey, it’s weird seeing you here. What are you up to?”

 “Um, just came to get some work done.  I don’t think sitting around and doing nothing is helping me sort out my feelings,” she said, stabbing some fabric with a needle.

 “Yikes.  By the way, I felt your little patty-cake thing with Ulq last night.  I am guessing you didn’t kiss and make up?”

 Orihime rolled her eyes.  “I brought up what you said about the bank teller and he got all pissed off.  Apparently he’s mad that I’m not over it or whatever.”

 Uryu scoffed.  “I’d be pissed if I were you.”

 “I know, right?”

 “Why does he think he’s justified?”

 Orihime didn’t say anything at first.   She kept her head down and stitched aggressively.  

 “Hime?”

 “What?” she snapped.

 “Is there a reason he thinks he’s justified?”

 “Well, I suppose so, but it’s bullshit.”

 “Explain,” the quincy demanded.  

 Orihime groaned and looked up, rolling her eyes.  “I told him before I left for Sado Island that maybe he should go fall in love with somebody else because he had said he wasn’t sure if he loved me or if he was just obsessed with me because I am “like a drug” for him,” she spat, employing air quotes.  “But I never expected him to actually do it, especially not so soon. And especially not with some _bank teller_.  I mean, how am I supposed to believe he cares about me after he did something like that?”

 Uryu raised his brows and whistled lowly.  “Good luck with that, Boo. I’m not touching it.”

 "Thanks a lot,” Orihime deadpanned as he left the room.

 

***

 

Yui set him off. She called him. She started talking about them hooking up since he was on the market again. Something about bank tellers and fat redheads. Ulquiorra got pissed off. He wasn’t touching anything Kurosaki stuck his dick in. He hung up absolutely livid.

 Might as well burn more bridges.

  _\- Get over here. Let’s talk about this NOW._

 It was sent to his ex-girlfriend.

Orihime read the message and set it aside while she finished the line of stitches she was working on.  It would take about ten minutes, uninterrupted.

The same message was sent to Orihime every two minutes. He knew where she was. She hadn’t moved.

_\- Get here or I’m coming there. You want to do this, let’s do it. I’m ready._

  * __I don’t know if I am.  Are you really ready?__



  _\- Ten more minutes. Move or I’m going to be there and we’ll have ourselves a knock down drag out fight._

 Orihime didn’t text him back.  She huffed and puffed as she put her things away and then started walking toward the train station.  It was going to take a lot longer than ten minutes to get there, but he’d know she was on her way. Her spiritual pressure was prickly.

It seemed that Orihime was in rare form. He could feel the anger in her reiatsu. It was thick and he knew that if she lashed out with it, it would probably be a more yellow than gold color. He knew his spiritual pressure changed colors with his emotions. He pulled himself up on the counter in his kitchen and waited. He was going to wait for her there.

It took her ten minutes to walk from Bunka Fashion College to Shinjuku Station, and then another ten minutes to walk her way to the platform and wait to board the train to Koenji.  Another six minutes on the train and another eight minutes walk from Koenji Station and she was looking at Ulquiorra’s building.

Shit.  

She was already tired.  She didn’t want to walk up those steps.  She decided to make her displeasure known.

  *   _ _Fucking stairs.__



 Ulquiorra snorted.

_\- indeed fucking stairs. Remember?_

Orihime rolled her eyes.  She wasn’t going to rush up them.  The first three flights were fine and then she started to slow down for the next two, and dragged until she took a break on the sixth floor.

  * __I do.  This is bullshit.  There should be a water fountain here or something.__



   _\- bitch bitch bitch. I have something for you to drink when you get up here._

  *   _ _I hope you’re in the mood for a bitch session because by the time I get there that’s what I’ll be doing.__



  She started up the sixth floor.  The seventh was okay. The eighth and ninth were slow.  She took another break at the tenth floor.

 Ulquiorra could feel her spiritual pressure and decided he waited long enough. Opening the door, all it took was a fraction of a second to stop where she was on the landing on the tenth floor. Wrapping his arm around her waist, it took another couple seconds to use flash step to get her to his floor. He did it quickly because he didn’t want her to resist him.

“You couldn’t have done that from the beginning?”

“Nah,” he said. “It gave you time.”

“Time for what?  To think about what a self-serving ass you can be?”

“Yup. You like my self serving ass though.” Ulquiorra smirked at her and the produced the bottle of wine. “For you.”

“For what?” she looked at him like he had just offered her a severed head.

Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow at her. “Fine, don’t drink it. Want a bottle of water?” He asked turning his back to her.

“Yes, please,” she said somewhat petulantly.  Honestly, what had he expected? It was early in the day and he had basically blackmailed her into coming up here.  She crossed her arms over chest and waited, resting her weight on her left foot.

He reached into the small fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to her. “Well, start bitching.”

“Well, for starters, what’s with you threatening me to come over here right this instant?”

“Because I got pissed off. Yui reminded me I was single and liked fat bank tellers,” he snapped at her. “If you didn’t want me to go fuck someone else why would you even say that?”

“I didn’t tell you to “fuck” someone.  I said you should fall in love with someone else, because then maybe you’d know that you were or weren’t in love with me.  I said it without consideration to my own feelings. I said it because I thought it would help you be a better person; because you said you were addicted to me and that could not be healthy.  I didn’t think it through. I knew it would be bad for me. I didn’t really fully realize it would be a deal breaker for me.”

Ulquiorra shook his head and then walked into the studio portion of the loft. “A deal breaker? If it’s that why the fuck are you talking to me? Why even accept my texts or phone calls? Why fucking hug me? Why let me kiss you? Why any of this if it’s a deal breaker? Are you mad because I can separate love and sex with people I have no feelings for? The only person I felt love for while having sex with is you.”

“I’m not mad about that.  I can’t understand it! I can’t reconcile it.  To me, it is totally inseparable! And even if you can, in theory, separate them, how can you separate me from sex now that you know?”  She stopped talking, hearing the words in her own ears made her realize her ideas weren’t being communicated clearly. “To me, you going out and fucking somebody else is the same as you saying goodbye to me permanently.  You didn’t go through with it, so there’s that. But you meant to. You wanted to! It doesn’t matter whether or not you loved her. Or whether you could. If you can fuck somebody else while you love me, then that’s not what I want.  If you want to fuck somebody else while you love me, that’s not what I want! What’s to stop you in that case if we got back together? How can I trust that you won’t just turn around and fuck anything that moves, because, afterall, it has nothing to do with love!  You can just separate the two! How fucking convenient!”

He flopped down into his computer chair. He didn’t care there was a mess on his desk. He didn’t care if the computer came on to show what he’d been looking at. He trained his eyes on her. His voice was rather calm for the smirk that was plastered on his mouth. “You told me to go out and love someone else. I knew that was impossible. I did not fall in love with any other fucking human as a Hollow. It was you and only you. If you think that why are you here? Why not just write me off, Orihime?”

“Is that what you _want_ me to do?”

“If that’s what I wanted you to do I’d start getting these tattoos removed,” he said, a flash of anger showing. He took a deep breath to calm down. He had to remain calm. “I think you said it because you were testing me. But that’s just an underlying issue to everything. There’s a huge blanket of problems that we have.”

“That is bullshit.  You had already dumped me.  What was I going to test? You already had told me you didn’t want to be with me.  That I was no good for you. That you had told me over and over again that you’d never leave me after you did the first time and then you did.  Again. Again!” she threw a fist down toward her hip. She was getting emotional already.

Ulquiorra leaned forward, putting his elbows on his thighs. He put his chin on top of his fists. “I know I did. Circumstances change. I could not be with you while having a mental breakdown. That’s what caused this breakup this time. I know now that I do love you. It’s not merely addiction that fuels what I feel for you. That was real love. That is something I cannot feel for anyone else.”

Orihime rolled her eyes.  “Oh, _super_.  So what happens the next time you have stress in your life?  You have another breakdown and blame me again? Run away and find another bank teller or hair stylist and then get a tattoo and…  what then?”

“What the fuck do you want me to say? What do you want me to do? Dying and then coming back to life is a bit traumatic! Dealing with these powers has been overwhelming. The fact that I could tell when you fucking got back from where the fuck ever you were is disturbing to me. Someone that forgot all about having such powers. Get fucking over yourself Orihime. I have problems and I’ve learned how to cope with them. When I learned how to deal with it you were not around. If I am going to tear my life apart while having a breakdown I’m not going to pull you along for the ride!” Ulquiorra yelled. He stood up, his spiritual pressure spiking. Anger bristled up his spine. “I asked you the other night if you were done with me. Are you done now?”

“Do I look done to you!?  I’m just getting started! You get over your fucking self!  You do not corner the market on trauma. You are not the first person on earth to have seen and experienced some shit.  You think I should just let you treat me like trash; just let you crumple me up and throw me away as many times as you want, and I should just accept it because poor Ulquiorra can’t be expected to take anyone else’s feelings into consideration but his own.  Is that what you think?”

“If that’s what you want to think, then think that. I told you the other night when you called me drunk that I was the idiot. I was the moron. I’m the asshole. I’ve thought and I’ve thought and I’ve done nothing but think of you and what we had. I ruined it, I know that. I am aware of this. If I begged you to take me back there’s a problem. You would never trust me. I’ve broken all the trust you had for me. I did it the first time. I put it back together carefully like a broken mirror. This time I could do the same thing but you’re still gonna see the cracks in that motherfucking reflection and it’s always going to remind you of what I did.” Ulquiorra took a breath from his rant. He started pacing the floor in front of her.

“I know what I did wrong. I took you for granted. I didn’t give you enough of myself. I thought the orgasms were enough for us. I took and took from you. That’s not fair to you. I did the minimal stuff for our relationship to work. It wasn’t a relationship. It was more like an ownership. Being in love with someone means you want a partnership with them. Both of the times we got together...” He trailed off, not knowing where to go next.

His admission stung.  She didn’t remember the conversation when she was drunk.  She was speechless for a long while. She finally sat on the hardwood floor and hung her head.  “I never thought I owned you,” she finally said.

“Really? You told me to go fall in love with someone else and when I decide to explore an avenue that could lead to that, you get fucking pissed off about it.”

“You waited all of what, two and a half weeks?  Of course I was pissed. You could at least mourn our relationship a little while before you went on the _bigger_ and better things.”

Ulquiorra nodded. She didn’t remember a fucking word either of them said the night she drunk dialed him. “Six years. Two of those years were spent being dead and just floating around I guess. I have no clue because no one will tell me a damn thing. Four of those years I spent trying to replace you; trying to feel something for one of those nameless women only for it to come back to you.”

“That makes it even worse.  Can’t you see that?”

“I know it makes it worse! I’m aware that it makes it worse! I was hurting. I know; I’m giving you fucking excuse after excuse! I’ve fucking apologized. I know what I did wrong. Do you want me to beg? Tell me what you want because I’m at the point where I don’t know what to do Orihime. I don’t know how to fix this. Being friends and building a relationship again won’t work. You don’t trust me. Making excuses about my mental state are just that; excuses. If I say I love you, you don’t care.”

“I _do_ care!  That’s why I’m here!  That’s why I haven’t given up! I fucking love you Ulquiorra!”  Tears were making it to hard for her to see and were changing the sound of her voice.  “I never stopped loving you. I never doubted that I loved you. I never mistook my passion for you as ownership or obsession. I’m fucking hurt,” she took a break because she had to calm down.  Her emotions were screaming in her head too loud to think in words anymore. She just tried to breathe.

Ulquiorra sat down across from her on the floor, his hands hiding his face. He was on the brink of crying. He never cried. “We’re both hurting,” he said, his voice tight. “We both hurt each other and didn’t realize it.”

She sat looking at the space in front of her feet, breathing shallowly with her mouth open.  “How did I hurt you, Ulquiorra?” Her voice sounded somewhat hollow. She was trying to separate her reactionary emotions from her ability to listen without judgment.  It was not going to be easy. She was putting some effort into the exercise.

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

He ran his hands through his hair, still looking at his lap. “Kurosaki. "Let’s keep him around because he can help". Fuck helping. Every time he came around or was mentioned or I had to be in his vicinity…” Ulquiorra shook his head. “Hearing him say what he said about you. Knowing he set Grimmjow on me… Kurosaki murdered me. He didn’t believe in you. He says he came to rescue you but he thought you were a traitor until I told him differently. He doubted you. Yet, you still believed in him to a point. We could have found Urahara’s place without his help.”

Orihime swallowed hard.  When Ulquiorra first started to explain how this affected him, she fought hard not to argue.  The impulse to fight him on this was strong. It hadn’t been her fault! Why did he blame her?!

_But._

But this time she listened. _This time._  This time she heard his _entire_ thought.  This time she let his wounds pierce her soul.

They _hadn’t_ needed Ichigo’s help to find Urahara’s place.  She had relied on the shinigami needlessly. If she had never asked him, the whole situation with Grimmjow may have never even come to pass.

Ulquiorra was right that Ichigo didn’t respect her.  He didn’t respect Ulquiorra. He certainly never respected their relationship.

But the worst part was that Ichigo _had_ killed him, and she had subjected Ulquiorra to situations that involved the shinigami repeatedly. To make matters worse,she had expected Ulquiorra to interact with his killer as if it had been nothing.  As if he should have just _gotten over it_.   As if his feelings and fears and terrifying memories didn’t matter.

 _As if Ulquiorra didn’t matter._  

“I’m sorry.” She could barely say it. “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t breathe through her nose anymore.

This is what he had meant.  He was right. She _had_ invalidated his feelings.  She had refused to take who he was into consideration.  The him from before. The him now. She had fetishized the memory of the fourth Espada and trivialized its importance in his life now.  She had disregarded his feelings as if they were inferior over and over again.

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “You’re right. I didn’t listen.”

Looking up at her, Ulquiorra didn’t hide the tears coming down his face. “Having him defeat me again...” He paused trying to gather his thoughts. “Grimmjow stalking me was the beginning of the whole thing. I couldn’t take the pressure of his reiatsu. I couldn’t take my death and rebirth. I couldn’t take the new powers when I had accepted I had none. I couldn’t take in Kurosaki’s words. I couldn’t take the defeat. After I pushed you away from me, I had my mental breakdown. I’m still experiencing it. I’ve not painted a single damn thing. I’ve got nothing. My show is in a week because Hirano somehow talked the gallery owner into rescheduling the show instead of me just cancelling.” The laugh that followed was somewhat bitter. “I don’t have you and I can barely function. I contemplate doing drugs or drinking. I don’t.” He was rambling again.

After he trailed off, she sat in silence for awhile, eventually letting her eyes trail off to the floor again.  They had reached a partial understanding. She thought she understood what she had done. He seemed to know some of what he did wrong.  He didn’t seem to understand how much, though. Perhaps he was too hurt to allow hers pain to affect him. “Was there anything else?”

A nod. “You telling me to find someone else to love. I needed a break from us. It wasn’t a breakup, at least not in my eyes. I needed a couple of days or weeks to get myself sorted out.”

She let those words sink in before she responded.  This point confused her, but she didn’t want to turn the tables on him until he had had his say.  “Anything else?”

“I don’t know right now. I’m too emotional to think logically.” It was the truth. “Oh, wait, Quin. The whole thing with Quin and your fucked up relationship. That still bothers me. I know he’s gay but still, It’s hard for me to accept it. You did the same thing. You two fooled around and sure you love each other but it’s so fucking twisted. At one point I think you loved him romantically.”

“That’s not true,” she said, lying down on her side with her head resting on her outstretched arm.  It felt too heavy to keep upright. “It was never romantic. We were just afraid of being alone.” She took a deep breath.  “I completely misinterpreted the break up… Break. You have to understand though, from my perspective, you were just rejecting me.  You were so angry when you did it. The last time I was here, you looked at me as if I meant nothing to you and told me to leave. You told me you’d never leave my side and then you rejected me.  I couldn’t accept it. My mind couldn’t take it when my heart was crumbling. I was being left behind. Again. As always. I couldn’t...”

Ulquiorra scooted closer to Orihime. “I know what I said, Orihime. I remember saying that to you. But look around. Karma has kicked my ass. No you. No muse. All pain.”

“Seeing you hurt does not bring me satisfaction,” she said and sighed, rolling onto her back and laying her forearm over her eyes. He didn’t understand her.  “Why?”

“Why what?” He asked. “I know you’re not a cruel person. I understand where you’re coming from. I had to make you believe me. I went about it the wrong way. I love you. I miss you,” he stopped talking as his voice broke. He felt so vulnerable and weak right now. “You don’t have to take me back. You don’t even have to be my friend. I just want you to know that I understand what you’re saying. I know I did wrong. I know I fucked up. Although we’ve hurt each other, we still love each other.”

She groaned. “Do you understand?  I don’t want karma or anything else to kick your ass. I want you to feel what I felt. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me it hurt you as much as it hurt me.  The way you decided on your own and threw me out without a proper explanation; what else was I supposed to think but that you didn’t want me anymore? That the power I gave to you and the life I restored to you weren’t good enough.  That _I_ wasn’t good enough?  I have never been good enough for anyone--” she wasn’t just talking to him now, in part.  She was talking to a lot of people from her past. “I wasn’t good enough for Kurosaki. For Rukia.  For Urahara. For Quin. For Tatsuki. For Aizen. For my parents. And then I wasn’t good enough for you, Ulquiorra.”  She buried her face into her elbow and curled her knees into her chest as she allowed the ever-present, but usually suppressed, feeling of worthlessness to surface again and swallow her. 

“Woman.” Ulquiorra didn’t know how to respond to this. He wanted to gather her up in his arms and tell her that she was too good for him. He swallowed trying not to let his emotions overwhelm him. Carefully, he got up, stepped over her then laid down beside Orihime, letting his body spoon hers. He was silent as he laid there. Minutes passed. “Orihime. I didn’t understand what was going on. I just knew I was scared and it hurt. How many times do I have to say I love you? How many times do I have to tell you I’m sorry? I told you on the phone the other night that if I were to get like this again, I would talk it out with you instead of pushing you away. We’re connected. You’re too good for me but I still want you. I want to be around you. I want to love you even more than I do now.” His words were gentle and spoken in a soft voice. Ulquiorra put his arm over her.

She touched his knuckles with her fingertips and let a loud cry come past her lips; the anguish of the past several weeks making itself known, loudly, as she gave up trying to control it.  She was glad he was behind her, so he couldn’t see the mess her face had become. Her eyes and nose were soaked. Her eyelids and lips swollen and red and ugly. She continued to let her hurt pour out, until it hurt her head too much to do it anymore, and she was reduced to choppy, shallow mouth-breathing.  When she finally felt, several minutes later, that maybe she could say something without that awful tidal wave of self-loathing taking her under again, she whispered. “You don’t have to say it or tell me it anymore if you don’t want to. All I know is that for the past few weeks, I thought I was worthless.  I still do. And now… I’m worthless and wrong and I hurt you too. I should have never been born. My parents used to tell me that. They were right.” It came back. Fuck. She screamed out and slammed the floor with an open palm. Her parents didn’t have anything to do with this. This was a lifetime of self-loathing and poor self-esteem mixing in with what happened between them and coming out painfully.

After the last ring of her scream faded out and she took a few breaths, she pulled herself up so that she sat on the side of her hip, her weight supported in her palms, then turned and looked down at Ulquiorra.  “This is me. I’m fucked up too. I’m sorry.”

“Orihime, had you not come along, I would have gone to hell. I would have never had a chance to love anyone,” Ulquiorra said as he sat up. This time, with confidence, he picked her up and held her, cradling her in his arms. “We can be fucked up together. We’re both troubled souls. I will tell you that I love you as many times as you want.” He let his hands cup her face, thumbs sliding over her jaw. He didn’t kiss her though. He just stared at her.

She looked back at him, afraid to look away.  She stared for a long time. The emotions swirling around inside of her were starting to settle a bit as she took comfort in his closeness.  “I need you, Ulquiorra. I don’t know if I can do this without you. I don’t want to. I love you.” She didn’t know she was saying the words out loud, speaking the sentiments as they became clear to her and she was able to identify them.

“Woman… Woman... ” Ulquiorra pressed his mouth to hers, unable to articulate what he wanted to say. The words were fleeting. Actions spoke louder than words. ”I love you. I promise to give more of myself to you. I want to--” He stopped. No. Now was not the right time to say that to her. She hadn’t even taken him back. “What happens now? What do you want to do?”

She couldn’t think much past the next hour or so.  “Right now, I just want to hold you and not let go for a very long time,” she answered in a squeaky voice as tears overtook her again.  She was just much to overtaken with emotion to function. She needed comfort and maybe a glass of water, if she knew what was good for her.  She buried her face into his body, trying desperately to smell him. She would have to wait for her sinuses to clear for that to work. She didn’t plan to let go of him until well after that happened.

“We can do that.”


	31. We Follow Our Hearts

Orihime woke up several hours later in Ulquiorra’s lap in his armchair. He had fallen asleep as well as they had sat there, trying to calm down and soothe their raw emotions and frayed nerves. She moved her eyes to see that it was dark outside.

 

She turned her nose to his shirt. She could breathe through it now. She sniffed, closing her eyes as his scent filled her and made the places in her brain that sensed these things light up like a million stars. She had missed him so much.

 

She sighed softly. They still hadn’t pieced themselves back together, but they had laid themselves bare. They had come clean with the hurt and wrongs that they had dealt to one another. Despite all of that, they loved each other. Everything else would work itself out, wouldn’t it? She held onto that thought, cradling it to her heart. She laid her palm where his hollow hole had once been, thinking about how much she had taken for granted the incredible transformation - no - transformations, he had undertaken. Because of her. He was so much more than she had ever allowed herself to believe. She looked at his sleeping face and saw a man who was much older than his body. She had a new respect for him. How could she ever have treated him so poorly? She sighed.

 

She needed to use the bathroom, too. She didn’t want this moment to end. She waited.

 

Ulquiorra shifted his legs. They felt numb but there was a weight on them. He opened his eyes to see coppery hair. His eyes closed again then opened wider. “You’re still here,” he said, voice practically a dry whisper. Once they both had calmed down some he had moved them to the armchair. It had been more comfortable than the floor. Since it was the place where he’d been sleeping his body decided it was a good time to take a nap. Not to mention his emotions had drained him of energy.

 

Orihime nodded, hand still on the base of his throat. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to take the first step. They had both been very emotional. Would he feel the same way now that that had settled down and they had gotten some rest? Her eyes were searching as they found his.

 

His hand came up to cover hers. It was right where that black circle was. “Are you--Are you better? Are you feeling alright? Calmer?” Ulquiorra felt it was stupid to ask. They had both put each other through a grinder of emotions. “We still have much to discuss. It can wait another day though.”

 

Orihime looked down at their hands on his chest. “I feel a bit adrift, emotionally, like the tide went out, you know?” she chuckled silently. “But that’s probably for the best at the moment. I have a headache. I need to pee.” She chuckled this time with voice.

 

He gave her a tentative smile. “Go take care of your needs. I will find the painkillers and get you some water. To be honest, I don’t want you to move though. This is… It’s comforting.”

 

“I’ll be right back,” she said, but made no move to get up, instead laying her head on his shoulder and smelling him again, putting her other arm around the top of his shoulder. “I think tonight we should rest. Stay close. Just recover. I love you.” She shook her head. It wasn’t because she had changed her mind. It was just that she would never have imagined she would propose something like this a few days ago.

 

Ulquiorra laid his cheek against her head. The apartment was silent for several minutes while he decided on what to say. All he knew was that he loved her. She was right though. They needed to rest. They needed to recover from this and what they had done to each other. Being close to each other would be a starting point but Ulquiorra felt they had a long road ahead of them. Maybe they didn’t. “I love you,” he stated, wrapping his free arm around her waist.

 

She nodded, and let him hold her for another two minutes before she started to stir. “Alright. Alright. I’m getting up. I gotta go.” She smiled apologetically as she untangled herself from him and stood, pausing for a moment as she got her balance. She looked down at the man in the chair and tilted her head, regarding him. “It’s going to be alright,” she said softly, then padded over to the bathroom.

 

Ulquiorra waited until the bathroom door was closed before he got up and moved to the kitchen. He found the bottle of headache stuff he had and got another bottle of water for Orihime. He put those on his desk and then started to clean up the mess that was there. He also shut the computer down. When she arrived he was full on planning to be an ass. Now she didn’t deserve it. Orihime deserved the utmost care and love that he could give to her. Once everything was situated Ulquiorra sat back down in the armchair.

 

He steepled his hands and placed them in front of his mouth, thinking. Perhaps he could do what he planned to do. Maybe he should do this. How would Orihime take it? How would it affect her? The last thing he wanted to do was send her into that dark abyss of emotions again. All he wanted to do was make her happy.

 

Orihime came out of the bathroom and approached Ulquiorra from behind.  She put her hands on his shoulders and kneaded them a bit. “What’s on your mind?” she asked.

 

“Uh, just thinking of some ideas for my show,” he said. He couldn’t tell her what he was thinking, not yet. It wasn’t the right time. “You really think we’re going to be alright?”

 

She put her chin on top of his head. “If we are willing to be honest and hold on, I think so,” she murmured.

 

Ulquiorra tilted his head up and kissed the underside of her chin and then took her hand leading her back his lap. “You’ve always had my honesty. I’m willing to be more open to you. ”

 

“Mmm,” she hummed her assent. “Do you think we’ll be okay?”

 

“With some work and some compromise I think we will be okay.”

 

She hummed her understanding, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder as they had been sitting before. She spotted the water and the painkillers on the desk, but she didn’t want to move from her spot at the moment. Her mind and body craved reassurance that he was really there with her, more than it wanted hydration and pain relief.

 

She sat there, staring off into space for a long time. Closing her eyes and listening to his heartbeat sometimes. She almost drifted off to sleep again. “Do you want to go lie down? Not, like… you know, but just so you can be comfortable too?”

 

He had been quiet and watching her. “I’m fine Orihime, but if you want to go up and sleep that’s fine. I’ll stay down here. I need to start painting, if I can. Go ahead. I think I have a sleep shirt of yours… You know where my clothes are if you need anything.”

 

“I’d kind of like to stay close, if you don’t mind. I could stay here while you work?”

 

A nod from him. He had no clue if he could paint but he was going to try. Ulquiorra motioned for her to get up. After she moved off his lap he stood up and stretched. He walked over to the desk and grabbed the stuff he got for her and brought it back. “You need to take care of yourself,” he said.

 

“Thank you,” she replied, taking a couple of the tablets and washing them down with some water before curling up on the armchair with her feet under her bottom and her knees near her face, which rested on the armrest. “Do you have any inspiration now?”

 

Ulquiorra shook his head. “Some days I thought you rejected my artistic ability,” he said as he walked over to the stack of unused canvases. He flipped through them and grabbed three of them which he carried over to the easels he’d had set up. One canvas went onto each of the stands and then he turned to the bookcase which held his paints, brushes and other art supplies. “So, uh, tell me about where you went for work.”

 

“Um… It was very beautiful. The sea was the kind of blue that you only think is real in pictures, a kind of clear, blueish green. The beaches had this beautiful white sand and it was so soft… I spent a lot of time when I wasn’t working lying under a palm tree and staring between the water and the sky. It smelled nice too. And it didn’t hurt that there were tiki bars serving these sweet tropical drinks everywhere. It helped me get through the lonely parts. Which was every part when I wasn’t working. The food there was really good too. And there were a lot of little markets to shop… I got you some souvenirs. I know it was stupid at the time, but I couldn’t help it. I’d see something that reminded me of you and I had to get it.”

 

A smile crossed his face as he grabbed what he needed and squirted paint onto his palette. He looked over at Orihime. “That is incredibly endearing. Thank you. I also got you some things,” he admitted. Ulquiorra rolled his head, hearing his neck crack before he picked up a paintbrush.

 

She smiled a smile with half of her face squished into the armrest. “Why did you get me something? You didn’t go anywhere,” she said with a somewhat lazy expression.

 

Ulquiorra began to paint, using broad strokes of the brush he was holding. He paused for a moment. “Because I wanted to show you that I could be romantic. Most of the things I got you--It’s silly. Don’t mind me. I’m rambling.”

 

“I’m curious. Maybe later we can have a gift exchange?” she asked and yawned. Despite having just woken up from a nap a short time ago she was feeling a bit sleepy. She nestled into the chair further. “I got myself a souvenir too. I’m not totally selfless,” she added.

 

“You were saying something about a tattoo on the phone,” Ulquiorra said. He looked over at the redhead. Was she really asleep? It appeared to be so. He stood there looking at the canvas which had thick viridian stripes going across it. He had no clue what to do next. Maybe he should have taken her up on the offer to lie down with her. She would be more comfortable in his bed rather than that armchair.

 

“I said something about that? Man, I cannot keep secrets,” she said, opening one eye. “Did I tell you what I was going to get?”

 

“No you said you couldn’t model a bikini with a huge red welt on your body. It makes me worried if you went to get a cheap tattoo. Who knows what the tattoo shops are like in other countries.”

 

“Don’t worry grand-dad, they are awesome. It is a gruesome tattoo though. A nude Medusa with snake hair riding a narwhal over a shooting star with a basket full of puppies. It’s epic.”

 

His brow furrowed as he looked over at her with a stern expression. “You’ll regret it in a couple of years,” he stated. Ulquiorra shook his head and turned back to the canvas. He mixed some yellow and a light brown color together to make a golden color. He moved the brush and placed six golden crescents on the surface. “It’s probably cool looking though.”

 

“Oh it is. The one of Thor dropping a hammer on my buttcheek was a mistake, though,” she said as if she truly regretted it.

 

“WHAT?”

 

“Gotcha,” she said with a small chuckle. “No mythical tattoos for me. Only personal stuff.”

 

His features smoothed out but his mouth was still a thin line. “So?” he asked. “Are you going to show me?”

 

“Someday,” she said with a smile. “Hopefully soon. I like your hair, by the way. I liked it before but this is nice, too.”

 

Hearing that sent a jolt of desire down his spine. Did she mean that the tattoo she had gotten was in a place like the last one? He swallowed, shaking off the lust coursing through his body. They had other things to work out before that. “Thanks. I was going to shave it all off.”

 

She raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

 

“You said you always liked my hair. You were constantly playing with it or had your hands in it. I think it was one of my defining features as an arrancar. It was one of my trademarks as an artist and model. I thought if I shaved it off, I would get over you faster. Dumb logic I know. The hair stylist told me that I shouldn’t shave it, just get a shorter cut.”

 

“I’m glad she did,” she said and then grew quiet. After a bit of time, she decided honesty was the order of the day. “I know who took those pictures of you after Aquamarine. I don’t know if you want to know, but I don’t want to keep it from you.”

 

He almost rolled his eyes when she mentioned the pictures. Ulquiorra listened to what she said. “That’s one of those things we’re going to have to work through, Orihime. If you want to tell me, then tell me.”

 

“That’s the thing. It’s not really important to me who took them, but it might be to you. I don’t want to burden you with the knowledge if you don’t want it but I don’t want to lie to you and hide the information from you… Do you get what I’m saying?” she asked, scrunching up her nose. The information would definitely piss him off, so she didn’t want to drop it in his lap if he was fine not knowing.

 

A nod came from Ulquiorra. “Tell me.”

 

“Yui and Kurosaki.”

 

It always fucking came back to that stupid shinigami, didn’t it? Ulquiorra scoffed. He paused and looked at Orihime and then scoffed louder. “Hmmm I wonder what his motivation could have been,” he said in a sarcastic tone.

 

“Quite the same as Yui’s, I imagine,” she said, raising a knowing brow and doodling a circle into the surface of the armchair. “I blocked his number after that.”

 

Ulquiorra was silent for a while as he worked on the painting and after twenty minutes passed, he sighed. “It’s always him,” he said. “Kurosaki let his little guard dog loose on me. He defeated me again. He said he wouldn’t kill me because then you wouldn’t sleep with him. He took pictures of me and some woman and then sent the pics to you, didn’t he?”

 

“Shows how much he knows. His little plans didn’t quite work out for him. He has no way to contact me and I’m here at your place, so he loses.”

 

“You need him though,” Ulquiorra stated. He took a deep breath and turned from Orihime, exhaling. He had to remain calm. Getting angry would solve nothing. “Whatever ties you have to him need to be cut before we commit to each other again. I don’t want to hear about him. I don’t want to see him. I don’t even want to feel his spiritual pressure.”

 

She was confused about the last part. “Do you want me to kill him? I don’t think I can do that…” she whispered. Of course that’s not what he wanted, right? Oh. Ohhhh… Maybe? Orihime got up and went to her purse. There was a small cloth coin pouch inside. She plucked it out and brought it over to Ulquiorra. “Destroy them.”

 

Ulquiorra turned, looked at the pouch and then at her. He shook his head. He could see the vague outline of the hairpins and their six points. “Sora gave those to you. He died shortly afterward. I remember that from the file. They’re how you have your powers. Why would I destroy them? What I am trying to say Orihime is I need you to stop relying on Kurosaki.”

 

“I won’t. I don’t. I know I did, but I won’t. But I would free Aizen and ask him for help in order to save you if I couldn’t. I hope you understand what I mean.”

 

The artist sat the palette and the brush down before he grabbed Orihime by the waist. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. Her reply to his declaration was enough for him. It was a compromise. “Only if I am dying can you use his assistance, okay? I’ll make that allowance.”

 

She smiled in relief and nodded. She hugged him back. “Okay.”

 

“Will you go upstairs and sleep now? I’m almost done with this I think...” Ulquiorra stepped back from her and looked at the painting with a frown.

 

Orihime looked at the canvas. “What is it?”

 

There were four wide bands of green streaked across the canvas with six golden yellow crescent shaped looking birds randomly placed on it. Ulquiorra kept frowning. “I think it’s supposed to be us. Green for me. The yellow for you.”

 

She smiled at it. “You’re not sure? You don’t sound sure.” She turned her smile toward him. “It’s pretty.”

 

“I guess. Nothing is coming out the way I want. Ever since I woke up with Kurosaki and Ishida staring at me… No… it was after that. After I pushed you away,” Ulquiorra sighed, throwing a drop cloth over the paint palette. “Maybe I’m tired and need actual sleep instead of naps.”

 

“I know I can’t work without proper sleep. Maybe you’re right. I’ll use the restroom and go upstairs then, okay?”

 

Ulquiorra watched her for a minute before he turned out lights and then grabbed his phone from where it had been sitting on his desk. He used that shinigami trick to transport him to the loft while she was in the bathroom. He shed his clothing, changing into a short-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of sweats. It wouldn’t do to freak her out.

 

Then he looked at his bed.

 

Ever since Orihime came into his life, he had to pick a side instead of laying in the middle of the big bed. He looked at the piece of furniture and then went over to what he considered his side of the bed, laying on top of the blanket. If Orihime came up to lay down with him, it would be fine. If she decided she didn’t want to stay with him, that would be okay too.

 

She came up the ladder after taking another drink of water, seeing Ulquiorra already in bed. “Are you sure you’re okay letting me stay here?” She said, putting her knee on the vacant side of the bed.” She was still dressed in her clothes.

 

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?” He asked, giving her a side eyed glance. “We’re just sleeping. If you’re uncomfortable with it, you’re free to go but I don’t want you to leave.”

 

She smiled and shook her head, deciding not to argue needlessly, and pulled the covers back. “I don’t want to leave. Recover. Stay close. I meant it.” She laid down and covered herself with the sheet and blanket.

 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you want a t-shirt or something else to sleep in?”

 

“I’m com-- Yeah, I don’t have anything else to wear tomorrow. I’ll get it,” she said, getting up and going to his drawer for a t-shirt and pair of boxer briefs. She checked to make sure he wasn’t looking before changing.

 

Ulquiorra was looking at his phone, making sure the device was blocking the view of her. He was just scrolling through some news site. He then turned his back to her. She needed privacy. “Do you have anything you need to do tomorrow? Do you need an alarm set or anything?”

 

She waited until her face was through the t-shirt hole to answer. “No, I have nothing,” she answered, crawling back into bed and pulling the covers up to her chin. It was much cooler dressed this way.

 

After she had settled in, she turned her head toward him. “Ulquiorra?”

 

He still had his back to her. “Hmmm? Yes, Woman?” His green eyes were fixed on the stack of books he had sitting on the bedside table.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“For what?” He finally put his phone down and turned to face her. “Can I get under the blanket too or is that too soon?”

 

A small smile was his response, until she tugged at the covers indicating that he should join her. “For everything. For you. For telling me. For listening.” A tear slipped out of the eye that was not squished into the pillow and she reached out to hold his hand. “Just thank you.”

 

When he got under the covers, Ulquiorra slid across the bed so that he was closer to her, letting his fingers intertwine with hers. “Don’t cry,” he murmured to her.

 

She blinked it away and nodded, closing her eyes. “Okay.” She gave his hand a light squeeze and infused a bit of spiritual pressure into the connection.

 

He closed his eyes letting that energy move through him. Ulquiorra wondered if she would ever understand what that did to him. “Orihime. Please,” he said.

 

“Hmm?” She didn’t open her eyelids. They were too heavy.

 

“Nothing, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

 

***

 

Orihime woke up very early, but quickly fell back to sleep and did not wake up again until late morning. She had not yet adjusted back to the two hour time difference nor had she fully recovered from the emotional decathlon she and Ulquiorra had run the day before the first time she had woken. The second time, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

 

Ulquiorra wasn’t in bed. She stretched and tried to sense his spiritual pressure, and found nothing. “Ulquiorra?” she called out after a few minutes.

 

He woke up hungry. This new found spiritual pressure made him eat more than he was used to eating. The only places open in the morning were fast food places and corner stores. Ulquiorra had gone for the fast food. It wasn’t healthy but he hadn’t eaten since he went to get the refrigerated meals… How long ago was that? He was on his way back to the loft when he felt Orihime’s spiritual pressure spike. He decided to text her because he had no clue how food traveled using flash step. Knowing his luck everything would be smashed.

 

\- Went to get food. Almost back. I got enough to feed an army. I didn’t know what you’d like. Love you.

 

She sighed happily as she read his message and laughed as her stomach rumbled. She was starving.

 

\- Love you, too.

 

She got out of bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She decided she had better change before he came back. She didn’t want to wear what she had been wearing, though. She wanted to keep smelling him. She didn’t want to wear a bra. She opened his closet and pulled out out a hoodie, putting it on over the t-shirt she borrowed, then put her jeans back on and climbed down the ladder barefoot.

 

It took him ten minutes to get to his building and climb the stairs. By the time he reached the top floor, he was huffing. Ulquiorra took another two minutes to catch his breath before he opened the door to the loft. “I’m back!” he said as he toed off his shoes before walking to the counter and placing the three bags of food he’d bought there.

 

Orihime trotted into the kitchen area, equally drawn by his voice and the smell of the food. “Oh my god, I’m so hungry,” she moaned, staring at the bags. Then she remembered her manners. “Good morning,” she said and dragged her eyes away from the food, smiling. “I love you. Thanks for breakfast.”

 

Ulquiorra looked her over and smiled. She was wearing his hoodie. He could bet she was still wearing his shirt. He abandoned the bags and walked the few steps over to her. “Morning,” he said sliding his hands through her hair and briefly kissing her. He probably shouldn’t have done that but whatever. He was trying to be different for her. “Uh, I didn’t know what you liked so I kind of got an entire bag of fries and then an assortment of sandwiches.”

 

She blushed and kind of forgot what she was there for after he kissed her. Then she breathed and remembered. “Let’s just jump in like farm animals, shall we?”

 

“Heh,” he chuckled. Ulquiorra kind of liked her reaction. He wanted to keep kissing her. “Sure,” he said, handing her one of the bags and grabbing the other two. “Let’s eat in the studio.”

 

She opened the bag as she walked after him, mouth watering. “I am a happy girl. I’m going to be happier in a minute, I see,” she murmured to the sandwiches. “I call this one,” she said, setting the bag on his desk and pulling out a chicken sandwich.

 

“Which one is that?” he asked, pulling out a thing of fries.

 

“Chicken,” she said in a muffled voice, having already bit into it.

 

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes at her. “Which chicken sandwich? There was one that looked really good so I ordered it,” he said.

 

“Fine, we can share…” she said in a melancholy voice, separating her mouth from the item and holding it out to him.

 

He shook his head. “No, you can have it. I don’t think that’s the sandwich I wanted. Oh well.” He grabbed a sandwich out of the bag and read it. Teriyaki burger. Hmmm, he thought. He unwrapped it and looked at the thing. It didn’t look appealing but it was food. “The big mac is mine.”

 

“Have at it, those are gross,” she giggled and bit into the chicken one again, closing her eyes and smiling as she chewed.

 

“They are not,” he said shielding his mouth because he had taken a bite of the sandwich. Talking with a mouthful of food was gross. “The ones with double meat on them are disgusting.”

 

She swallowed and opened her eyes. “I just don’t like the sauce and the extra slab of bread. I like the tsuki-mi burger with the egg on it. That is not in --- wait, it is in season. Did you get one?”

 

“Yeah,” he said. Once again his mouth had food in it. This time he was eating fries. “I was going to eat it. Did you want it?”

 

“Share?” she proposed with her fist in front of her full mouth.

 

Again he shook his head. “There should be enough food here for the rest of the day. I’m going to eat the fries, this burger which isn’t very good and the big mac. That should be enough until later.”

 

“No. If you have never tried the tsuki-mi I insist you try it. Give me the teri-burger. You have the tsuki-mi while it’s hot. You won’t have another chance until next year, probably.”

 

“No. I just got this stuff because it was fast and convenient. I didn’t want to go to the store and I didn’t want to cook,” Ulquiorra said. He handed over the burger though and went looking through the sacks for the boxed burger. When he first came to live in Koenji, the novelist took him to get one of these. Ulquiorra wanted one every day until another tenant told him the low down dirty facts about the double decker sandwich. “Yum. It’s a been a while since I’ve had any fast food.”

 

“Same,” she said. Her hunger was not quite as frantic as it had been before the chicken sandwich, and she still had a bite left. She ate it and waited for Ulquiorra to surface from his feeding frenzy.

 

Twenty minutes, a Big Mac, and fries later, he was laying on the floor absolutely miserable. “I ate too much,” he groaned.

 

“It will subside. I told you that extra slab of bread is no good, though,” she teased gently. “Keep your belly warm. It helps, I swear,” she said, unzipping the hoodie and folding it to lay over his abdomen. “There. I’m going to go get decent. You lie there and suffer like a proper glutton,” she said, but kissed his forehead before getting back up.

 

“No,” he said, grabbing her hand. “You are decent. What’s so--Oh.” His gaze had dropped to her chest and he saw her breast freely moving. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Ulquiorra glanced at her face and then back to where he had been staring. “You’re fine like that.”

 

She saw his reaction. “I may be fine like this, but I don’t know if you are,” she laughed with a tinge of embarrassment. She should have anticipated this.

 

He let his hand drop, embarrassed by himself. “Sorry,” he replied. Ulquiorra handed her back the hoodie. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry, I mean… We’d have bigger problems if you were disinterested. I’ll get another one.” She put the hoodie back over his belly and got up quickly. “What do you have planned today?” she asked as she climbed the ladder.

 

Ulquiorra was not going to let her get away that easy. He flash stepped up to the loft and stood by the ladder. When Orihime got to the top he pulled her to him. His hormones were overruling all logic at the moment. “Just one touch?” He asked, looking at her then biting his lip. “Over the shirt of course.”

 

She laughed once and nodded, putting her hands on her hips. He sounded like a handsy toddler - one of Markus’ stylists often brought a three-year-old with her to work until his grandmother could pick him up. He had often asked to squeeze her “boo-boos”.

 

His teeth sank deeper into his lip as he lifted his hands up to her chest. It had been weeks since he touched her. If all he was going to get was one touch, he was going to draw it out. His thumb helped cup her tits and he slowly let them glide up and over her nipples. His breath was a sharp gasp, feeling her body respond. He could feel her nipples against the palms of his hands. The moment he felt them he disappeared. He had used that trick again but it was for a reason. He had to get away from her. That had been a mistake to touch her.

 

He looked up at her from the studio floor. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing you did… You’re right I’m not fine with it right now. Maybe in a couple of weeks. I’m gonna go have a cigarette. Take your time,” Ulquiorra said it in a rush before he walked out of her sight.

 

She shook her head and called after him, “I get it, see you soon.”

 

Leaving the loft, Ulquiorra practically ran down to the first floor. He had no cigarettes on him so he hoped that one of his neighbors would be out there. He was in luck.

 

“Hey, Novelist.”

 

“Hey Big Shot Model,” the man replied with a smile. “Heard some yelling last night. Things okay in Casa Murcielago?”

 

“Yeah,” Ulquiorra said, leaning against the building. He had calmed down on his way down the stairs. “Um, can I get--”

 

“Sure man, sure.” The Novelist produced a pack of cigarettes from his pocket of his jacket. “Another conquest?”

 

He shook his head. “No, that was Inoue and I hashing our differences out. You were right. I needed to give her more than orgasms. I needed to be more open.” Ulquiorra lit the thing and took a drag, his hands shaking slightly.

 

He missed the look on the man’s face. “Ah, so still single?”

 

This time Ulquiorra shrugged. “I’m not really sure. Yes but no? It’s probably going to start off slow like it did the last time. I mean fuck--I can’t touch her without wanting to--”

 

“It’s cool. I know how that feels. My wife and I split up a couple of times before the big one. It was always the same thing. The hormones wrap you up and spit you out again,” the writer said. ”Probably good that you’re going to wait. When did she leave?”

 

“She hasn’t.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Ulquiorra took another hit from the cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nose. “She needed me last night. I needed her. We fell asleep together. I woke up ready to get to work. It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep will do to you.”

 

The other man nodded. “Speaking of work, I’ve got to head inside and get writing. Don’t worry about you and Inoue. It’ll all be fine, you’ll see.”

 

Again, Ulquiorra was too busy looking at his shaking hands to notice the man’s expression. All he heard was his neighbor’s words. “Thanks man, I’ll buy you a beer soon,” he stated as The Novelist walked into the building.

 

Ulquiorra pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped his messages.

 

\- You do things to me. Your touch, your gaze, your body, your spiritual pressure… Everything about you turns me on. I’m speaking from the aspect of lust. That lust has developed into this deep seated desire for you. Where do we go from here?

 

He sent it to Orihime, hands still shaking.

 

She sighed and smiled when she read his message.

 

\- I know. I lust for you, too, you know. You and I need to only keep it in check until we’ve worked through whatever we need to work through. If we can get to a place of… I dunno, some kind of trust that isn’t fleeting, I think we won’t have to look back. That’s my hope, I guess. You?

 

Ulquiorra had finished his smoke and was walking back up to the loft when he got her message. It brought a semi-smile to his face.

 

\- Those are agreeable terms. You’re absolutely correct. It’s only me that needs to keep it in check. I’m giving myself false hope.

 

She laughed. He had no idea how much she wanted him.

 

\- Hahaha. You’re a funny guy, Cifer. I needed to take a cold shower after you left.

 

She thought some more. She was going to send another text, but she decided to say the rest in person.

 

He smirked at that text he got and shook his head. She was obviously flattering him. Ulquiorra opened the door quietly and removed his shoes before he walked over to his desk and pulled stuff out of his pockets. He didn’t plan on going anywhere else that day.

 

“Tummy any better?” she called down from the loft. “When I used to smoke it usually settled my stomach.”

 

Ulquiorra turned around and his eyes darted up to the area above his head. “Yeah the trek up and down the stairs helped,” he said in reply. “Are you decent now?”

 

“I’m back in the hoodie, so yes. I wanted to tell you something and I don’t know how to say it well, so I’m just going to say it, and you can tell me if it’s confusing and I’ll try to clear it up, okay?”

 

“Okay, what is it?”

 

“Any hope you have isn’t false. I love you. I intend to make this work. I don’t intend to fail. I know we might, but hope is all we have. It’s not false. That’s it.”

 

Ulquiorra looked up at her with a deathly serious face. He swallowed the nervousness he had bubbling in his throat. “So I was not wrong in my assumption we are back together? We’re just taking this slow, correct?”

 

She contemplated what he said. She hadn’t thought about it in such terms before. “I mean, if someone asked me today if you are my boyfriend, I wouldn’t know what to say. But if someone asked if I was… unattached, I would say no. I guess that means… I don’t know if there is a normal way to say it but I am committed to you. My heart belongs to you. It always has. It’s just a matter of finding our way back? That’s how I feel, anyway,” she admitted, then looked down at her hands. He might not agree, she realized, taking a deep breath and holding it a moment before letting it go.

 

Using flash step to get to her was probably not a good idea. He didn’t want to alarm Orihime. He calmly walked over to the ladder and climbed it. When he was standing at the top, he looked at the redhead. The urge to kiss her and corral her towards the bed was bordering on overwhelming. “I am your boyfriend, Orihime. My heart belongs to you. We are partners.”

 

She started nodding and then she couldn’t stop, and her lip started quivering. “I should have trusted you more. I should have listened. None of this would have happened.” Her tears came too easily now. It seemed to her that once that dam of emotions burst yesterday, it was far too easy for it to leak ever since.

 

“Come here, Orihime. Please.”

 

She stepped toward him until she was standing right in front of him, looking directly at his throat.

 

He reached a hand out, letting it rest against where her heart was. “I asked you years ago what is a heart. I know the answer to that now. You are. You’ve always been my heart. I should have had more faith in myself that we both could weather my breakdown. I should have had more faith in us. We’re going to take this slow. And we’re going to do this right, this time.”

 

She mirrored his action after a moment of silence. “How do we do that?” she asked with a little lilt, hoping that maybe he miraculous answer. She may have been human longer, but they had exactly the same amount of relationship experience. Actually, maybe he had more.

 

“I was kind of hoping you knew but… we’ve both have not had a lot of romantic experience,” he answered. Ulquiorra sighed. “We follow our hearts. We follow our instincts. We talk. We communicate.”

 

‘I can do that,” she said, her hand sliding up to the back of his neck and pulling him down so she could hug him. She held him tightly and kissed his cheek. “I can do this.”

 

His head was buried in the crook of her neck. He tried to be good. The smell of her skin and her warmth was all it took for him to kiss the column of her throat. He slid his face up near her ear, drawing the lobe into his mouth and gently biting it. “Maybe… Perhaps... ” Ulquiorra’s breath was ragged.

 

She didn’t know if this was a good idea. “Communicate. Maybe what? What and why?”

 

“I know you want to spend time with me but this is going to keep happening. Maybe we should spend the rest of the day apart? I don’t want to but dammit Orihime,” Ulquiorra said as he straightened up. “I just want to touch you.”

 

“I know. Maybe this is what we need to talk about. “Why?” Not just like, because it feels good and because my body wants to, because, duh. Of course,” she said good-naturedly. “But why does it feel so necessary? Why does it feel so right? Why does it only feel that way when it’s you and me?”

 

He looked at her and then shifted his eyes to the side. “I know why I want to touch you constantly. I want to make up for all those who came before you. I want your voice and taste and touch seared into my memory so that I can’t forget it. I want to make you feel loved and happy. I want to make you feel good.”

 

“Okay. What else, though? Look deeper.” She was making a mental list of her own.

 

“I love you.” Ulquiorra appeared confused. He didn’t know what she wanted him to say. All he knew was what he felt. “I want to touch you and be near you because I love you.”

 

She smiled. “I love you. That’s the overarching gist of it, isn’t it? I never want to forget you. Did you know, I stole some of your soap before I returned it to you? Because I was I was afraid I’d forget what you smell like.” She paused and took a deep breath on his neck.

 

He chuckled. “I thought the bottles I got back were emptier than what they should have been. Woman, you’re--” Ulquiorra curled his hands into fists to keep from kissing her. “I have pictures of you. I have video of you on my phone. Nothing bad. Just you talking or smiling. I have all kinds of pictures of you on my computer. Whatever I found on the internet I saved. That is what made me worry about the obsession thing. I constantly think of you. I still don’t think this need to touch you is healthy but it’s love to me. Just a simple touch… I’m not being clear.”

 

“No, you’re not,” she shook her head once. “But do you feel it too? The physical ache of being separated? It hurts. Not just emotionally. It physically hurts.”

 

“I felt it. That’s why I got the tattoo. I guess what I am trying to say is that by touching you, I can tell you more than saying it,” he explained. “We all know I’m not good with talking about shit like that. Yes, more often than not, I touch you in an explicit way but it’s also when I touch your hand, move some hair away from your face, or hug you.”

 

She frowned a bit. “Maybe that’s what causes misunderstandings though. I can interpret your touch however I want. Your intentions don’t come through unless you say them, sadly. I thought before that when you touched me that it meant more than it did. Especially in the beginning. A hug could be for soothing purposes or supportive purposes or to say goodbye. They all feel the same without a specified intention.”

 

Ulquiorra nodded. “I realized that. That’s why I said we need to communicate. I’m still going to touch you though,” he said.

 

“Well I should hope so,” she laughed and looked up at his face. He didn’t get it. Maybe he needed some time for it to sink in. “So you want me to go, then?”

 

This time he sighed. “I don’t want you to but I think we need to reflect on what’s happened. We both need to time to think,” Ulquiorra said. He needed time to wrap his head around all of this. The past six weeks had been a rollercoaster of emotions and events. “Just a couple of hours, okay? Maybe tonight we could hang out or something.”

 

“It’s okay. Take the time you need to take. I’m not going anywhere,” she smirked. “Well, I’m going home but I’m not going anywhere until next weekend. You have time.” She looked down and then popped her head back up. “Oh, I’m keeping these for now. I don’t usually steal clothes but I want this.”

 

“It’s fine.” He had the biggest smile on his face now.

* * *

 

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	32. A Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're in the US, FILE YOUR FUCKING TAXES. LOL

He told himself that when she left he would paint. Ulquiorra stood in front of those canvases and waited for inspiration. His muse was being a bitch. She had gone, leaving a note saying, “BBIAB ASSHOLE”. That was fine. His muse often disappeared… The problem was he had a week until his show and he had nothing except for one fucking disaster of a painting. 

 

A sigh left him. Maybe his time as an artist was done. Maybe he had his time at the top. 

 

He sent Hirano a text, telling her to cancel the show. Of course, the woman texted him back, basically telling him to shut the hell up and grow a set. Then he got a call from downstairs. Packages had arrived for him. 

 

Ulquiorra was nervous as he left the apartment and walked down those flights of stairs. He signed for both boxes and took them back upstairs. The first one contained a special surprise for the redhead. The other had those decadent chocolates… He decided to save the chocolates for later. He had something else in mind.

 

Something more fitting to the occasion.

 

It didn’t take long to find that wine shop again. There was a confectionary shop right next to it. They had what he was looking for and Ulquiorra paid for the treats with a smile on his face. 

 

Walking back to the train station, Ulquiorra texted Orihime. He had plans for their reuniting. He wanted to make her feel special and loved. He wanted to show her the romance she deserved. So as he walked the pavement with the bags in his arms, he texted her.

 

\-  _ What’s your favorite flower? _

 

Orihime was at home, painting her nails when she got his message.  It was a cute question.

 

 

  * __Hard decision.  In spring, peonies.  In summer, hydrangea.  In autumn, dahlias. In winter, chrysanthemum.  Is that a decent answer, lol?__



 

 

He smiled. She had to give him multiple answers, didn’t she? 

 

_ \- I’ll see what the florist has. Would roses work? Too overdone? _

 

She replied right away.

 

 

  * __Roses are never overdone :)__



 

 

_ \- Good. I hope you’re not busy… I’m planning on being at your place in about ninety minutes. _

 

Ulquiorra sent the text off grinning like an idiot. 

 

She took it in stride.

 

 

  * __I’m at home.  I don’t have anything going on.  I’m literally watching paint dry, lol.__



 

 

With a burst of energy, Ulquiorra used flash step to head toward a nearby florist shop and then headed back home. He changed his clothes to something more dressy and looked at himself in the mirror as he fastened the cuffs of his shirt. He could do this. All he had to do was gather everything up and then make his way to her apartment. 

 

He arrived twenty minutes later. He had a small box that contained four chocolate covered strawberries for her, a bottle of wine he offered to her yesterday and a dozen red roses. Ulquiorra stood outside her apartment door and waited a minute before he sent a tendril of spiritual pressure out. He wondered if she would respond to that or if he needed to knock.

 

She felt it and sent a ribbon of her own warm energy out to greet his before she got to the door.  She didn’t expect him so soon. She was dressed for lounging, but she didn’t care that she wasn’t made up or perfect.  He had seen it all before. She came out to open the door wearing an oversized tank top and leggings.

 

When the door came open, he stared at her from her feet all the way up to her face. Ulquiorra took a deep breath, exhaling smiled at Orihime. “Hey,” he said. “I know I’m early. I couldn’t wait. I got you something.”

 

She smiled at him in a way that made her eyes twinkle as she walked over to him.  “I got you something too, remember? I should give it to you now,” she said. She looked him over.  He looked good. Dapper. She blushed a bit as she sat down on the couch and patted the space beside her.

 

Ulquiorra followed her suggestion and set the brown paper sack on the floor. He smiled at her before he picked up the box of chocolate covered strawberries and set them in her lap. “I figured with our sinful meal earlier, you might appreciate these. Healthy… ish,” he said with a half smile. He felt his stomach twist with anticipation. He wasn’t sure how she would take his gifts.

 

She opened the box and looked inside, then looked at him with an appreciative smirk.  “You sly thing! Thank you, this is perfect. I’m starving anyway. Want one?” she offered, taking one out of the box and bringing it to her lips.

 

Shaking his head, Ulquiorra declined. “Bought them for you. I also got you a bottle of wine and these,” he said, picking the bouquet of roses out of the bag.

 

She took the flowers and smelled them, looking over the tops of the blooms at him so only her eyes were visible.  “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” she said in a sweet voice. “But thank you, these are beautiful. Do you want to open that now?”  she asked, glancing at the wine, then looking back to him, “Or should we save it for an occasion?”

 

“Depends, Woman,” he asked in a low voice. Ulquiorra swallowed and gazed at her, hunger starting to wake in his brain. “Is this an occasion? I promised you romance. I promised to show you how in love I am with you.”

 

Her blush deepened.  “Well, how about I give you your gifts and then you can decide?” she suggested, setting down the flowers and going to her room.  She returned a moment later and passed a purple shopping bag with gold foreign script on it to him.

 

His face colored slightly when she handed him the bag. He glanced in her direction before opening it. The first item he saw inside was a bag of loose leaf Thai tea that boasted the flavors of cardamom, tamarind and star anise. He studied it for a moment before he retrieved the next item, a bag of coconut candy. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

 

Pulling out the next item, Ulquiorra looked at Orihime, a bewildered expression pasted on his face. It was some kind of woven cloth, with a green, white and black chevron pattern. Maybe it was a wall hanging? “I’m not too sure what this is but the pattern and craftsmanship is nice.”

 

She laughed, “You can use it as a scarf or a belt or sarong, if you’re into that kind of thing.  You could also just use it as a towel,” she said, then looked back toward the bag, “there is one more thing in there _. _ ”

 

A straight black eyebrow rose and Ulquiorra reached in the bag. His pale fingers wrapped around a circular object and he took it from the bag. His eyes went wide and he glanced up at Orihime. “What is--Is this--?” This was the bracelet he had given her years ago to abscond with her. No. It wasn’t exactly like it. There were some differences. It wasn’t exact but it was close enough.    
  
He watched her face as he slipped that bracelet onto his wrist. To him, this was as good as a proposal. She gave him something that essentially tied them together. She gave him a piece of jewelry that had meaning to each other. “Thank you, Woman. You didn’t have to do this.”

 

“I know, but when I saw it, I knew I had to give it to you. Now, remember,” she said, looking at him with mischievous eyes, “this one won’t actually make you invisible.  But if you wear it I’ll be sure to notice you more than anyone else,” she laughed, and added, “You’re welcome.”

 

He never planned on taking the thing off then. He reached over to cup her face, running his thumb across her cheek. “I think that this an occasion to perhaps celebrate but I bought that wine for you to enjoy.”

 

She stood and took the bottle to the kitchen to open it, saying.  “Don’t you know? Wine is for enjoying with the ones we love. Otherwise, you’re just drinking alone.”  She reached up to grab some glasses from a cupboard, being a bit careful about how her shirt was hanging on her sides.  “By the way, I have one more thing to show you,” she said as she returned to the living room with the glasses and open bottle. 

 

He waited, watching her as she moved. “What is it? I don’t think you could surprise me anymore today,” Ulquiorra said with a small smile.

 

She grinned in response and stood several feet in front of him, setting down the wine and glasses.  She turned so her body faced his left, and then lifted her left arm. Due to the large armholes of the tank top she had on and her lack of bra, the entire side of her ribcage and a bit of the side of her breast were exposed.

 

It seemed like his breath stopped. Green eyes stared at the portion of her skin she had shown him. Ulquiorra stood, and walked over to where she stood. That was Murcielago inked into her skin below a heart. The key to his release was etched into her flesh. Why did she get this? He glanced at her, silently asking for permission to touch her. He couldn’t speak at the moment, too moved to form words.

 

A smile slowly stretched her lips as she observed how captivated he was by the tattoo she had designed.  She had it placed high on her ribcage, slightly behind and below her armpit. It was about as long as a hand is wide, and in a location that would not ordinarily be seen; at most times her arm would cover it up.

 

He continued to hover around it.  “You can touch it if you want,” she encouraged, sensing his hesitation.

 

Ulquiorra didn’t waste time. He wrapped an arm around her and then used his free hand to stroke the area around the new tattoo. She had to have gotten it in the past week. It looked like it was already healed though. “Murcielago,” he murmured, finding his voice. “Why, Woman?”

 

“I wanted to make sure I always had a sword to protect the heart. At the time, I didn’t know if it was mine... or someone else’s, but I wanted it.  And, you know, because it looks badass.”

 

He gave her a side-eyed look and then turned his eyes to the tattoo, fingers still touching it. Occasionally, the tips of his fingers would brush the curve of her breast. “No one else,” he replied. “I am your sword, Orihime. Me and you. We can protect each other.”

 

She looked into his eyes, letting them linger as he looked at her tattoo and back to her.  She had missed him more than she knew, and she knew she had missed him a lot. Her eyes had become wet at his murmured words.  “I think you’re right, this is an occasion.”

 

“Can I--May I kiss you?” he asked, straightening his body so that he could look at her face properly.

 

She nodded, her lips slightly parted, and tilted her chin up to look at him.

 

He bent down, capturing her lips with his own, slowly moving his mouth against hers, all while he continued to caress her new tattoo. It was just like the second kiss he gave her, sensual and drawn out. He invaded her personal space and then retreated only to tease her with his tongue and teeth, nibbling at her lower lip.

 

She smiled into his kiss.  When his teeth came out to play with her lower lip for a second time, she pushed up on her tiptoes and bit his top one softly, dragging on it ever so slightly, then releasing and kissing him full on the lips, then wrapping her arms around his neck and bear-hugging him, putting another firm kiss on his princess tattoo.

 

She let go with one arm and tried to reach for a wine glass.  “I really want to try some of this,” she begged, looking cute.

 

Hngh, he had practically melted into her arms. When she broke away from him, Ulquiorra wondered if it was too much, too soon. He released Orihime from the embrace and nodded, taking a small step back. “It’s for you, Woman. Enjoy it.”

 

Orihime smiled at him and turned to the side, filling only her own glass.  She picked it up, faced him, and took a sip. She only broke eye contact when her eyes closed as she smelled and tasted the wine,  allowing it to wash over her palate and overcome her senses. When she opened her eyes again, she took the glass away from her mouth for a moment and told him, “This is really quite good, you should taste it,” then brought the glass to her mouth again.

 

Before he could make a move, she stepped toward him and put her hand behind his neck, pulling him back to her mouth as she removed the glass from it, her lips coated with the red liquid.  She kissed him, her tongue coming out to wet his lips further, and then pulled back. “Let me know if you’d like a glass of your own,” she said, letting her hand trail back down his neck, his shoulder, his arm, all the way down to his fingertips before she let go and stepped back.

 

Ulquiorra watched her for a moment before he went to sit back down on the couch. He couldn’t keep standing. This woman had to know what she was doing to him. His heart was racing. His hands itched to touch her but he refrained. They agreed for this to be a slow, steady thing. Instead of asking for it, he grabbed a wine glass and the bottle. When he was satisfied with the amount, Ulquiorra sat the bottle back onto the coffee table and drained his glass like a heathen.  

 

“Thirsty, are you?”  Orihime asked, cocking an amused brow.

 

He glanced up at her to show her the deadpan expression on his face. “Tch,” he said.

 

She grinned.  “Oh come on, that was funny.”  She walked over and sat beside him with her glass in hand and took another sip.

 

“Why are you tempting me?” he asked, putting his own wine glass down. Ulquiorra turned his head slightly and peered at her, waiting for an answer.

 

She looked back at him with a similar expression for a moment, before gesturing at the table.  The flowers, the gifts… they all kind of followed a certain theme. “I mean,” she started, looking at the items on the table, “isn’t that kind of where all this is going?”  she looked back at him tentatively, with a semi-apologetic look on her face.

 

He nodded. “We said--Are we going with instinct or following our hearts right now? You said I needed to learn what romance was. I’m trying to show you that I know what it is, even if I don’t show it to you often.”

 

She looked at him like he was the cutest thing ever as he spoke until he spoke about showing her romance.  She leaned forward and changed her posture, bending a knee up on the sofa so that it faced him and reclining her side against the back of the furnishing, propping her head up with that hand.  In her other hand, she took a slow sip on her wine glass. “Oh, romance. Okay, show me what you’ve got.”

 

Oh. Ulquiorra blushed, listening to what she said. “So says the virgin,” he murmured turning towards her. “I could show you all the moves I can do but I really don’t want to be caught by your roommate while my cock is buried in you, lover.” He smirked at her.

 

“Oh yes, the true voice of romance speaks,” she retorted while giggling.

 

“I’m trying,” he said in earnest. Ulquiorra grabbed her ankle and started massaging the arch of her foot. If she wanted romance he’d do it. Some website he had read told him women deserved foot rubs and it was romantic to give them. He’d never given one before but he was going to try. “I take it you didn’t expect me so soon?”

 

She released a little groan as he kneaded a particularly sensitive spot.  “Uh, no. I was just looking through pictures of Thailand on my phone while my nails dried.  It really was fantastic. Warm, sunny, tropical. I never had to wear real clothes. The food was spicy and the drinks were sweet. I didn’t want to leave until you started talking to me again,” she said, pausing now and then to hum when something he did felt good.  “I’d like to go back again someday as a tourist instead of for work.”

 

He smiled and then switched to her other foot. “Yeah? Maybe next year we can go.” Ulquiorra looked up at her with a serious expression. “I have one more surprise for you Orihime.”

 

Her eyebrows raised, “What is it?”

 

Ulquiorra said nothing as he finished rubbing the other foot, ignoring her questioning stare. He stood and then pulled her up to her feet. Without any warning, he got down on one knee and reached into the pocket of his trousers and produced a ring. He had spent days thinking about this. He needed time to mull things over; to let them stew and bubble. He looked up at her, offering the piece of jewelry to Orihime.

 

Orihime froze.  She could not believe what she saw.  She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think.  She could only stare at him as her eyes filled, waiting for him to tell her what she couldn’t believe by only seeing.

 

“I know this seems all of a sudden and we don’t have to do this right away. We could have a long engagement and properly plan for the future; save money, buy real estate, boost our careers, kill Grimmjow. You know stuff that would have our priorities. We could tour Japan and go to that one place you told me about. We could spend some time in Thailand,” Ulquiorra looked up at her. “Inoue Orihime, I want to be more than your boyfriend. I want to be your sword and your knight. I want to be your future. I want us to be partners and lovers. I found my heart because of you. You gave me the chance at a second and third lifetime. I want to be your husband because I can’t imagine myself with anyone but you.”

 

She still could scarcely believe it.  She picked up her trembling hand and brought it to his, the one that still held the ring out to her.  She still couldn’t speak. She didn’t have to, he had only offered it to her and declared his intentions, she thought.  

 

“Will you become my wife, Woman?”

 

She sputtered. She coughed.  She went down to her knees and climbed into his lap and sobbed once before pulling back and nodding.  Again and again she nodded until she was finally able to say in a hoarse voice, “Yes. Yes. Yes, I will, yes.”

 

A smile crossed his face and he took her left hand and slipped the ring on to her index finger. “I’m not sure if that’s your size or the right finger,” he mumbled. “I’m rather new to things like this.”

 

She didn’t care.  He could have put it on her nose. She was so happy.  She was so blindsided. Never in a million years did she expect this, especially not now.  She wrapped her arms around his neck again and held him in another bear hug, petting the tightly shorn hair at the base of his skull and nuzzling his ear.  “I love you,” she whispered. 

 

“I love you too,” Ulquiorra replied. He smiled at her. “What do you say we polish off the rest of that wine and make out like teenagers?”

 

She didn’t wait for the wine to get started on the making out.


	33. Lips On Me

A half an hour later they were still making out but had moved to the couch instead of continuing their activity on the floor. It was Ulquiorra who pulled away from her, smiling slightly. Good things came to those who waited, was something he had always heard. He had patience as an Espada but his well of composure wasn’t as deep as a human. “I would like to spend the rest of the afternoon with you if possible. I don’t know if you have other plans or...” he trailed off, looking at Orihime questioningly.

 

He knew that although he just proposed to her, Orihime still seemed like she was in shock. Perhaps he should have given her some kind of warning about his plan. The thought of her rejecting his idea stung although she had said nothing yet. He studied her face and the way she stared at him like he was something to be admired.

 

Orihime grinned at him. “My only plan is to celebrate with you.”

 

Ulquiorra almost sighed in relief. Instead, he caressed her face tenderly. “May I stay with you tonight?”

 

Her eyes squinted as a warm smile grew over her face.  It was finally starting to sink in. Not really, only a bit, but it was _starting._ She was going to just answer yes, but then her smile turned into a grin and the thought that she was now officially attached to him tickled the periphery of her mind.  She tried very hard not to squeal. In the end, she nodded while making a sound that was similar to an “mmhmm” but much more high pitched than normal. She was giddy.

 

A smirk crossed his face as an idea took hold in his brain. “I love you, Woman.” Ulquiorra kissed her again, his thumb grazing over that new tattoo. “I think I want to make you breakfast in bed at my apartment.”

 

“I think I wanna eat it,” she responded, giggling as she pulled on his shirt, eager to continue where he had left off.

 

A hum left his throat as he allowed himself to be drawn closer to her. “There’s something I’m dying to nibble on too,” he murmured. Ulquiorra closed his eyes bringing his mouth to Orihime’s for a moment.

 

Orihime pecked at his lips several times before acknowledging him, finally asking, “Oh yeah?  What’s that?”

 

“You,” he said giving her a stare filled with desire.

 

“What have you been doing this whole time?” she teased, swatting at his shoulder, then getting distracted by the ring he had given her. She placed her left hand in her right and tilted it back and forth, watching it scatter light around and smiling absently.  “What made you decide to do this? Why now?” she asked, forgetting her previous question.

 

He watched her actions and frowned when Orihime asked him those questions. It took him a moment to answer, trying to find the right words to tell her. With a deep breath, he said, “I love you. I want to be with you. Every time that we’ve been apart, I think of nothing but you. I want to be by your side until I can no longer go on living.”

 

“I guess that it took you some time to come to this conclusion.  It surprised me that you wanted to take it this far, though. I’ve heard the conversations you’ve had with “The Novelist”.”

 

He raised an eyebrow at her then sighed. “I cannot base my opinions on one person’s failed relationship. It did take me time to come to this decision. I’m not trying to rush into things. I waited for six years for you. I’ll wait for another six if I have to but all I know is that I cannot imagine a life without you, Orihime. I hope you understand this. I don’t want to imagine it.”

 

“Well you won’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said, sighing and removing the ring from her index finger and putting it in its rightful position on her fourth. “As long as I wear this, I am bound to you, you know.  Like a koala,” she giggled.

 

“So I did get the finger wrong,” he muttered to himself. “What is a koala? Do they wear rings?”

 

She threw her head back and laughed a tinkling chime of a laugh, then looked at him with a playful smirk.  “Nope, a koala is a cute little fuzzy gray animal that eats eucalyptus and clings to things that make it feel safe, like this,” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders.

 

The green-eyed man decided he liked koalas. He liked them very much if they inspired this woman to hold him like she was doing. “I remembered what you said in my apartment… About procreation and maybe I wanted to do it with someone else. The night at Aquamarine, I was drunk. That wasn’t the real me. You know I don’t drink enough to get drunk. I don’t. I don’t even know if I want to do that but just the idea of letting another person get close to me as you have… It makes me feel uncomfortable and irritable because I didn’t want to get to know someone else or touch them… I guess what I am trying to say is--I’ve been thinking about this since the night I met you again. I know it seems like an impulsive question but I assure you, it’s not.”

 

She hummed, sizing him up for a few seconds.  “Well if we are spilling our secrets I guess I can tell you one,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “if you’re interested in that kind of thing,” she dangled the idea in front of his nose.

 

“What?” he asked warily. He knew that secrets could be bad and secrets could be good. Ulquiorra had heard others talk about them all the time.

 

“Today is not the first time I’ve said yes to you. I dreamed about this the night you kissed me for the first time,” she paused and looked over at the ring now behind his neck.  “The details are slightly different this time,” she chuckled.

 

Ulquiorra smiled at her for a moment. “What changed? Don’t tell me you wanted to be a virgin on your wedding night,” he offered.

 

She blushed and bit her bottom lip for a moment, then smiled awkwardly.  “Uh, actually, in the dream… um… well, there were a lot, um, fewer clothes involved, and instead of a ring, it was handcuffs…”  she bit her lip again and stared down at her chest. She could not believe she admitted that to him.

 

Eyes widened and a devious smirk played over his lips. Did she even know what she was asking? He let his tongue wet his lips before he made the choice to stand up with her still wrapped around him. Ulquiorra tilted his head slightly and pushed her chin up with a hand. “I don’t have any handcuffs but I sure Ishida has some neckties, right?”

 

“Wha---” she really, _really_ didn’t want to imagine Quin’s kinks.

 

“What? You want one of us to be tied up and fucked right? There’s a sex store somewhere in Tokyo that has all kinds of stuff for lovers.”

 

She looked at him with faux shock.  “You sound like you know what you’re talking about, Mr. Cifer.”

 

“Now, now, _Miss_ Inoue… Do you take me for some kind of deviant?” he mused then bit the corner of his lip in a playful manner while smirking. “I google a lot of shit during the day that I hear about or don’t understand. I’ve read a lot about stuff that can be done while making love.”

 

She buttoned her lip for a second and looked at him like she was considering it, then blushed again and smiled, saying, “Um given recent events I believe discretion is advised.  We don’t need _more_ gossip. If you really want to use restraints you can always use that silk thing from Thailand,” she giggled.  “Maybe that’s what it’s really for.”

 

He glanced at the bag on the coffee table before considering his options. Ulquiorra looked at the woman in his arms and moved over to the bag, snatching the cloth out of it. He then turned and walked to Orihime’s bedroom, setting her down once they were inside.

 

Orihime reached behind him and shut the door.  “As I said, Quin’s supposed to be out,” but as a precaution, she locked the door. “Now, I have a question, have you ever done something like this before?  Are you sure you want to do it now?” There was no warning in her voice, only curiosity.

 

“Yes and I will spare you the details,” Ulquiorra said. He looked at her for a moment. “I think I would enjoy blindfolding you so it heightens the anticipation. I could do so many things you would not expect.”

 

“Oh?  Like what?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.  If there was one thing Orihime liked, it was surprises.

 

A chuckle left his throat. “Go down on you. Finger you. Bite you and leave marks,” he murmured drawing her close to him. “Maybe you’d like to suck my cock while blindfolded. Or get fucked.”

 

Her eyes widened and her mouth drew into a small o shape.  “You don’t say,” she said, nodding as she raised her eyebrows.  She was trying to be cool. She wasn’t. “Maybe I would and maybe I wouldn’t.  That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she was pulling out all the middle-school one-liners she knew.  Ulquiorra had no context for this awkward little chit chat.

 

He took this as a challenge. The smirk dropped from his face, replaced by one that hopefully conveyed his need for her. His hands roamed her sides, feeling that smooth skin, coming up to brush his knuckles against the outside curve of her breasts. Ulquiorra let the tip of his tongue trace his upper lip before speaking. “I will find out, Woman.” Then he added, “Either way I'm going to get lost in you; your body. I want to hear your moans and gasps. I want to feel the way your body moves with mine. I want you to captivate me with the way you come on my dick. I was going to give you ladies’ choice but I think I’ll just decide what I want.”

 

The left corner of her mouth quirked up slightly as she shuddered.  His words alone were causing a funny feeling in her belly; one that was nothing like the one that had started during their make-out session in the living room.  This one was instant and molten, and she felt the urge to shift her hips and flex her inner thighs to relieve the squirming energy that was taking over her. “Do you want me to submit to you?” she asked in a breathless voice.

 

His touches grew bolder, Ulquiorra had cupped her tits and was letting his fingers gently squeeze the flesh beneath his fingers. He wanted more though. Those same fingers trailed over her nipples, ghosting over the sensitive skin. “It depends, my Princess. Do you want to? Do you want to be on your knees in front of me? I could treat you like a queen though and serve you.” His voice was husky and he moved so that his mouth was close to her ear. “I’ve always remembered my threat to you.”

 

“Which one was that?” she whispered, a hint of nervousness in her tone.

 

“The one where I wanted to tie you down,” he replied.

 

Her eyes met his for a minute and they were on fire.  She didn’t look away as she took a deep inhalation through her nostrils, her chest rising and expanding as her posture explained to him what her mouth wouldn’t: she was up for this challenge.

 

She refused to answer him? Ulquiorra arched an eyebrow as he gently pinched one of her nipples beneath his fingers. “I asked a question, Woman. You told me you would obey me. I want an answer,” he said in a seductive tone.

 

“What if I can’t decide?  Do you want to flip for it?”  It was less than a whisper.

 

Ulquiorra continued to stare at her as he stepped back, unbuttoning the shirt he had on, until it hung loose on his frame. He grabbed each side of the piece of clothing and shifted his shoulders, inching it off his body until it lay in a puddle at his feet. He smirked as his hands loosened the belt holding his pants up but he didn’t undo the button or the zipper. “I think I am going to provide my service to my queen and offer her my sword.”

 

Her eyes narrowed and focused on his hands, waiting for him to finish what he had started.  Her own fingers itched to touch him as he had revealed his sculpted body. Her tongue came out to wet her lips and her eyes slowly raised to his.  “I accept,” she murmured.

 

Ulquiorra grabbed her and turned. He pushed Orihime several steps back so that she was against her bedroom door. “Good, because I know exactly what I want to do to you and how I'm going fuck you. Are you curious?”

 

She nodded slowly.  “What did you have in mind?”

 

“To taste you. To make you beg for me. To feel and hear you,” he murmured as he brought his head down to kiss her. “I want to use my mouth to make love to you.”

 

She whimpered.  She had never done anything like what he was suggesting.  

 

He had never done what he was suggesting but he’d read about it. He had seen porn detailing how to pleasure a woman using one’s mouth and hands. He knew that she was probably a bit scared or nervous about what he wanted; this was new territory for him too but he wouldn’t tell her that until after they were done.

 

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, sensing the slight hesitation on both their parts.

 

“You need to get naked,” he said, before kissing her. His fingers had a hold of the hem of her modified shirt and tugged on it. “I want your body bared to me, Queen.”

 

She did as she was told; pulling the tank top over her head and then rolling the leggings over her hips before pushing them the rest of the way down her legs until she was able to step out of them, then stood before him naked and waited, unsure of what was going to happen.

 

He sank to his knees. Ulquiorra motioned for her to turn around and brace herself against the door. He gently pushed on her back so that she had to bend over somewhat with her hands on the wooden surface. They had just made out but he could tell that Orihime was becoming aroused. He could smell it. He could hear how her breaths were hitching as he groped her firm ass. He used two fingers, trailing them down her spine and the curve of her bottom until he reached what he wanted to touch. Ulquiorra paused his actions only for a moment, running a hand over her ass before he gently nipped the skin. “Going to answer me now?” he asked.

 

A pained whine sounded through closed lips. It was the not pain from what he was doing that caused it, but rather the agony of waiting for the unknown. “I submit,” she whimpered.

 

That was all it took. The same two fingers that made a path down her spine, parted those wet folds and entered her core, swiftly.

 

His fingers inside her were a welcome intrusion.  She circled her hips around them slightly, wanting to feel the somewhat calloused surface of those digits from the inside, coating them with her essence.

 

He gave a little hum of appreciation at the sight of his pale fingers wet with her arousal. It made Ulquiorra bite his lip as he brought his thumb up to press against her clit. He expected the moan that left the woman and then the little whine as she moved her hips trying to achieve some friction.

 

The cool air in the room combined with the sensations Ulquiorra was causing made her nipples grow painfully taut.  She tried to still her hips, wanting to let Ulquiorra direct this activity, but her body was impatient, and she was soon stirring his fingers within her again, the tight buds of her breasts brushing against the cool surface of the door, causing her to hiss.

 

A smirk crossed his face when he heard Orihime. Ulquiorra watched everything he was doing to her, making notes about what she liked and what made her gasp. She wasn’t being loud enough for him. Why was she holding back? He slid his fingers out of her body letting them toy with her clit. “Do you like this Orihime? I can’t really hear if you do like it or not.”

 

Of course, she did. Perhaps he wanted to hear her talk like a dirty little.  She was a little self-conscious about it though. “Mmmmmmm,” she moaned through closed lips in a louder voice than she had used before.  “I love it,” she hissed.

 

“Heh, good girl.” Ulquiorra took a deep breath, knowing it was now or never. “Do you want me to lick you, Woman?”

 

Yes.  Knowing him as she did, he would not give her what she wanted unless she asked for it though.  “Please,” she squeaked. This was mortifying.

 

“Naughty lover,” he said. Ulquiorra brought his free hand up and smacked her ass. It was merely a tap because he did not want to hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted to do but he knew from experience, a little pain was sometimes okay during sex.

 

This time she yelped, a sharp, high-pitched little squeal.  “Ulquiorra!” she whined. “I like it when you touch me,” she finally answered, her voice soft and somewhat petulant.

 

“Turn around and face me,” he murmured. Ulquiorra was painfully hard in his trousers. While Orihime situated herself, he decided it was time to lose the rest of his clothing. He resumed his position, on his knees in front of her. He let her stare at him for a moment. Raking his teeth over his bottom lip, Ulquiorra looked up at Orihime, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

 

Orihime did as she was told again.  She held a hand to her mouth, nibbling on her fingertips, nervous to find out what he was going to do and how it was going to feel.  She looked down at her lover’s face, though, and couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. She loved him so much, she thought, her chest swelling with desire and affection.

 

He continued to stare at her body before his eyes were drawn to that inked numeral on her hip. It was just like his own but much smaller. It suited her. He brought his mouth to the tattoo, his tongue flicking out over the surface. He remembered when she had done the same thing to his tattoos, worshiping them with her mouth. The memory brought made his cock twitch.  


When his lips made contact with her tattoo, all her breath left her in a whoosh, only for her to gulp down another breath just as fast.  There was something incredibly erotic about having his lips on this part of her body. She could not recall him ever doing something like this to her before.  She couldn’t take her eyes off his mop of black hair as it dipped and retreated slightly as he pressed his kisses into the 4.

 

He couldn’t see her face over the rise of her tits. It was okay. He didn’t need to see her face in order to tell that she was anticipating what he was going to do next. He could tell she wanted more by how she would wiggle her hips slightly or the soft huff of breath that would come out. Ulquiorra moved his head across her lower abdomen, planting kisses in a trail lower until he felt her trimmed pubic hair against his lips. He hooked a hand behind her knee and lifted her leg until it was resting on his shoulder.

 

She felt unbalanced and braced one hand behind her against the door for support as he moved her leg.  When he looked at her, it was all she could do not to let her legs buckle and lie on the ground for him to take her there on the floor.

 

Her face disappeared from view as Ulquiorra brought his mouth to her skin again. This time he felt the split of her nether lips and he placed a kiss there, drawing one into his mouth and then the other. He was nervous and didn’t know if it showed. He had no clue how to do this. Orihime would be the first woman he had ever pleasured this way. He heard her moan, so he must have been doing something right.

 

His lips on her was a much more intense sensation than she had expected.  She gasped and moaned, biting down on the knuckle of her free hand to muffle the sound.  It was so much different than his hand, hips, or cock in this area; it was warmer and wet. It was a mind eraser.  She had no thoughts as she stared, unabashed, at the top of his head, waiting for him to do something else.

 

Turning his head, he kissed one of her thighs and then the other, gently nibbling the skin he found there. He felt he had teased her enough, that he was ready to do this. His tongue came out of his mouth, flickering against her pussy. He moaned at the taste of Orihime. He couldn’t even describe what his senses were telling him.

 

The first touch of his tongue against her sent her mind through some kind of warp where time and space no longer existed.  She sucked a quick breath in through her nostrils and held it as both hands pressed against the door, desperately trying to prevent her from slipping away from this delicious sensation.  She was already wet, and she could feel the velvet surface of his tongue mix with the honey that coated her inner folds, the combination creating impossible warmth and wetness. The only thought in her mind was the sensation of sinking deeper and deeper into that warm, inviting pool of heat between them.  As he moved his tongue more toward a rhythm, her breaths started to come in short gasps and soft whimpers. She had absolutely no control over her reactions.

 

The more erratic breaths that she took spurred him on as his tongue slipped between those lips, stroking the warm, wet flesh. He paid particular attention to her clit, circling it with his tongue gently. He didn't want to get her too worked up so fast because he didn’t want this to end before it began. He moved his head and let mouth brush against the folds of skin. The whimper she released was enough for him to bring his attention back to that nub. This time he let his mouth close over it, sucking gently. He caressed the skin of her leg with his hand before he entered her again with the same two fingers as before. He bent them slightly, timing the thrust of those digits with his tongue.

 

Orihime was not going to last long.  This was a new plane of consciousness.  Her soft whimpers soon gave way to desperate cries as he brought her closer and closer to climax.  One of her hands left the door and frantic fingers threaded their way into his hair and held on for dear life as her thighs began to tremble.  Her cries became breathier and faster. She was so close.

 

He knew with every touch his mouth gave her he was driving her to that edge of bliss. Her knees shook and Ulquiorra could feel the muscles of her legs tighten. He moved his fingers inside of her, licking and sucking at her clit, enjoying how she sounded. Ulquiorra wasn’t surprised as wetness dripped down his arm when she came on his face.

 

She had died and gone to heaven for sure.  A silent scream escaped her lips as she looked blindly upward and came.  He continued his ministrations until she literally fell apart in his hands, sliding down the surface of the door, her knee that was on his shoulder slipping down over his arm as she fell to the ground, limply grasping his shoulders on the way down.

 

Ulquiorra held her as her body continued to tremble. “Orihime?” Had he done something to hurt her?

 

She could only pant into his neck for a few minutes as she came down from her high.  She could smell herself on his face. To her surprise, the scent only made her want to be closer and she brought her lips to his neck, kissing his princess tattoo, his jaw, and his cum-drenched lips.  She tasted herself on him and sighed in satisfaction. Finally, she brought her half-lidded eyes to his, and whispered, “I love you, Espada. When I have the strength to move, I will reward you justly,” she said with a weak smirk.

 

Okay, so she wasn’t hurt or anything. A small wave of relief relaxed the muscles in his shoulders. “I guess I did a good job? That was my first time doing that,” Ulquiorra admitted.

 

Holy balls.  That was his first time? _That_ was his first time?!  She grinned, more to herself than to him, and patted him on the head.  “You were a very good boy,” she said. “Well done.”

 

He playfully rolled his eyes and then cradled her in his arms. Using his legs, Ulquiorra stood up and moved them to her bed. “You were a _very_ good girl by listening to me. I love you, Woman.”

 

She lay beside him and lazily ran her fingertips over his body, starting at the hollow of his throat and trailing down the center of his abdomen, to his navel, down to the line of hair leading to his cock.  When she reached it, she wrapped her hand around it and languidly massaged the silken skin from base to tip and back, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it thudded within him louder and more quickly.  “Anything,” she said in a voice that was very slowly regaining strength. “Anything you want is yours.”

 

Ulquiorra took a deep breath, his exhale stuttering as he felt her touch. He gave a low moan, trying to refrain from bucking his hips up into her hand. It felt way too good. “I just want you and your heart woman. I want your love,” he said. His hand joined hers on his cock. The sight of their hands stroking him just inched him closer to completion.

 

“You have it,” she sighed, climbing to her knees and kissing his lips, pushing her tongue into his mouth and stealing his breath, all while continuing the slow pace of their joined hands on him.  She backed away after one more peck and kissed his chest, then carefully, taking a deep breath, swung a leg over his thighs, so she sat looking down at him, her other hand joining theirs and distracting his from its activity.  She threaded the fingers of their two hands together and asked, looking into his eyes softly, “Can I make love to you now?”

 

He had to swallow as he watched their hands and then glanced at her face. He could feel the blush starting to appear on his face and he nodded, feeling bashful all of a sudden. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he had laid the truth out before her and confessed what he truly felt for her. “You never have to ask, Woman,” he stated. “I am yours.”

 

She smiled at him and lifted her hips, raising her body and walking forward on her knees until he was beneath her. She still held onto him with her right hand, and she used it to guide him to her entrance, before slowly inching down on his cock, sheathing his sword to the hilt.

 

When she reached her destination, she sat still for a moment and closed her eyes, allowing the sensation of him filling her to wash through her body, the much-missed wholeness making her heart flip-flop and her insides flutter.  Her now free right hand traced the tattoos on his torso as she began to rock back and forth on him, still hesitant to break the full contact she had with him. “Ulquiorra,” she said in a low voice, “I am yours, too.”

 

Ulquiorra’s spine arched as she sat on his thighs, his entire length inside of her. He gripped the woman’s thighs as she touched him and began her movements. It was all he could do to hang on to his sanity with how good she felt around him. He definitely was going to lose himself in her body. He began to move with her, hips bouncing on the bed. “Orihime,” he moaned.

 

Urged by his movement, she increased her own, raising and lowering herself onto him with her thighs, bracing herself for balance with a small hand on his hard belly.  She could feel him starting to swell inside of her already. She had wanted to make this last but he felt so good inside of her that she began to lose herself, releasing his hand and putting both of hers on the mattress on either side of his chest, her breasts sliding against his upper body as she raised her hips up and lowered them down in time with Ulquiorra's increasingly insistent thrusts.  

She tried to restrain herself, but before she knew what was happening her walls were spasming around him and she was crying out her second release in ten minutes.

 

She didn’t give up on him this time though.

 

“Fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth. Ulquiorra slammed into Orihime one final time before holding her against him. Her orgasm had spurred his own and he could feel his dick pulse and twitch, filling her with his seed. Once he was done, Ulquiorra felt boneless as he lay there; knees weak and chest heaving. “You’re still on those pills, right?” he asked in a warm, affectionate voice.

 

She had collapsed on top of his chest and nodded, whispering, “Yeah,” as she felt him soften and slowly fall out of her.  Once he had, she carefully rolled off the side of him and pulled a blanket over their damp bodies before a chill had a chance to set in. She closed her eyes and wrapped an arm across his belly, muttering, “I don’t want to go to Russia.”

 

Giving a sleepy chuckle, Ulquiorra ran his hand over her hair, smoothing it down. “I don’t want you to go either. You signed a contract with Pauletto though, right?.”

 

“Yeah… I signed it the day you sent me packing,” she said with a small huff.  “I needed a distraction. This was it.”

 

Oh. He wrapped his arms around Orihime, holding her tightly. “I’ll never send you away again. But you can think of this as your last on location modeling job unless I can come with you,” he stated matter-of-factly.

 

“Deal,” she said, smiling, and kissed the four on his chest.  “You could come with me to Mother Russia? Natasha and Boris could go ice fishing, no?” she played with a ridiculous fake Russian accent.

 

He shook his head. “Gotta maintain a low profile. Gossip, remember?” Ulquiorra said. “Plus I have that show this week. I couldn’t paint without you around.”

 

“Hold on, you used to paint without me all the time.  What’s the difference now?”

 

Ulquiorra sighed. “You were in Tokyo or in the vicinity. I couldn’t feel you once you went north.”

 

Ah.  It made sense. She thought that even before he had gotten some spiritual powers back, there was probably some latent sense within him that could feel the air and energy around him.  Some people might call it intuition or whatever, but that really didn’t matter. The loss of someone’s spiritual pressure could be quite profound, as she had learned over the past six to seven years.  “I won’t stay away long, then,” she said, nuzzling his side.


	34. New Media

He could hear a phone going off. He just didn’t know if it was his… Who else’s phone could it be? Ulquiorra opened his eyes expecting to see his loft but instead saw Orihime laying beside him, still asleep. 

  
  
Oh, right. That hadn’t been the best dream of his life. That was a fucking reality. He had proposed to her. They made up. He’d done things. His face got hot just thinking about it. Ulquiorra sighed as that chirping sound made itself know again.

 

The last place he had his phone was in the living room. Lifting his head, he looked at Orihime’s alarm clock and cursed. It was too early in the morning. He knew that ringtone though and if he didn’t answer it, PR Bitch, a.k.a. Hirano, would hunt him down and murder him.

 

Untangling himself from Orihime and slipping out of her bed, he got dressed in his pants and the button up shirt he wore to the woman’s apartment. He walked out of the room to see his phone laying in the midst of his presents to her and her gifts to him. He picked it up, frowning at the number of missed calls. Why the fuck would Hirano be calling him since seven a.m.?

  
  
He pressed the call button, not surprised that she picked up before the first ring was finished. No, Ulquiorra was surprised because the moment the woman answered, she started screaming at him.           

 

“ _ WHAT THE FUCK, C _ ?”

 

“What the hell is your problem with me today, H?” Ulquiorra asked becoming offended at her question.

 

HUFF. “You didn’t see the fucking article did you? What the fuck is with that twit ex-girlfriend of yours? Does she like--”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“That red-headed gold-digging bitch you used to date. Ring any bells?” the woman spat.

 

Ulquiorra’s eyes narrowed and he felt his grip on the phone tighten. “That is my future wife you are talking about Hirano! I suggest you shut the fuck up with the insults and tell me what I need to know!”

 

Silence.

 

“Hirano.”

 

“There’s a magazine article in some fucking fashion magazine and it’s all eyes on you,” the woman stated.

 

Ulquiorra’s expression softened a bit. This was probably the interview that Orihime had been talking about. He ran his hand through his hair, still not used to the shortness. Sitting down on the couch, he said, “How bad is it?”

 

“Hold the fuck up though,” Hirano said. “ _ Wife _ ? You proposed to her? Are you fucking stupid?”

 

He felt defeated when it came to dealing with this public relations agent. “I might be, H. I’m stupid and in love. What does the fucking article say?”

 

Hirano told him but she paraphrased it then told him to get his hands on a copy of it as soon as possible. 

 

“Who wrote this?” Ulquiorra asked.

 

“Emi Takahashi.” the woman replied. “I did snooping this morning while you ignored my calls. She has been linked to Yui before that slag got her break. Did your former--” 

 

Ulquiorra growled. “No. Yui never mentioned anyone by that name.”

 

“This woman sounds like she’s hung up on your dick or something, Cif.”

 

Another sigh. “I’ll keep that in mind. Do you think we can set up an interview of our own to explain my side of things?”

 

Hirano snorted. “You’re going to need a lot more than an interview. J. Itoh has done an article on you and will be releasing it Friday.”

 

The green eyed man shook his head. He knew it was going to be bad, he wasn’t sure of the magnitude of the destruction though. “I’m fucked. I have nothing for this show. Can you forward me a copy of the post?”

 

“Nope, I don’t have one. He just said it was brutal and to expect it out Friday night,” Hirano said. “I’ve gotta go. Somehow I’ve got to clean this mess up. Get a copy of the magazine, C.”

 

After he hung up the phone, Ulquiorra sat there for a moment with his fingers resting on the bridge of his nose. What could that interview say that was so horrible? He texted Orihime, telling her that he needed to do something and gathered his things, including the gift bag she had given him with the candy and tea still in it. He wore the bracelet and that silk thing was still in her room, probably crumpled on the floor.

 

Orihime woke up when she got the text, confused about why she was alone and why Ulquiorra would text her.  She texted back, asking what he was up to and whether he’d be back or just call her later, then got up and put on the clothes from the previous day that still lay on the floor by the door.

 

Her phone rang.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Whoa, Boo.  Who did you piss off?”

 

“Quin?  What are you talking about?  I just woke up.”

 

“Check your email, I called that bitch, she said she’d send it to you.” Ishida said and cut the call.

 

Orihime looked at her emails and saw one from Emi Takahashi.  She opened it. There was no greeting, only the words, “see attached.”

 

She opened the attachment.

 

**BY: Emi Takahashi.  PHUKET, THAILAND:** Formerly linked to art scene heavyweight, C. Murcielago, model and Bunka Fashion College student, Orihime Inoue, was recently on the set of a photoshoot for renowned Shibuya designer, Pauletto, for his  _ Budding Designers _ campaign on the beach in Phuket.  The petite woman has long been rumored to be Murcielago’s muse and lover, and there had even at one point been buzz that the two had eloped.  Those rumors were subsequently proven false, which tracks with the fact that they are no longer a couple. However, this writer has long been determined to uncover the truth about Murcielago, and believes the macabre artist may be hiding some other secrets.

Murcielago has always been a press-shy enigma.  Rarely interviewed, and not often photographed before his relationship with Ms. Inoue and his short-lived modeling career with Markus, the private life of the tortured, tattooed artist has long been a mystery.  Once rumored to have been dating fellow Markus model, Yui, it was later confirmed by Murcielago’s spokesperson that the pair had simply been friends and any speculation or gossip to the contrary was just that. Recently spotted exiting the popular Shibuya club, Aquamarine, with another short redhead, the rumor mill has once again been set into motion, and people are dying to know, “What makes Murcielago tick?”

False relationships and rumors aside, it has long been common knowledge that Murcielago and Inoue shared an intense, on-again-off-again relationship and even cohabitated.  With this in mind, I sat down and had a long, relaxing wine lunch with the diminutive redhead while she took a break from modeling Pauletto’s new collection, wearing nothing but a pea-green string bikini (pictured, left).  Under the presumption of reporting on her work for the Italian-born, Tokyo-based designer what follows below is an abridged version of our conversation, which I recorded with Ms. Inoue’s permission:

Interviewer (ET):  So, Ms. Inoue, how did you meet Pauletto?

Inoue (OI):  I met him through friends.  My roommate and Markus were close and we were in the same social circle.  

ET:  This is the same Markus that you modeled for, together with the infamous C. Murcielago?

OI:  ( _ laughs _ )  Yes, the same one.

ET:  How did you get started modeling?

OI:   I was actually scouted by Aki Watanabe at an art gallery.  She recommended me to Markus.

ET:  An art gallery, was it?  I imagine we’re talking about a show for C. Murcielago.  The pictures you did for Markus featured Murcielago. They had had a lot of chemistry.

OI:  Indeed they did.  We were pretty close then.

ET:  That’s right.  It was around that time that there were rumors flying around that the two of you had eloped.  What do you think might have started those rumors?

OI:  I really can’t say, I mean, we never talked about getting married or anything.  Maybe it was just that we spent a lot of time together. Right after those pictures came out I took a nasty fall at school and had to go to the hospital for stitches.  Murcielago had come to visit me and there was some confusion about our relationship amongst the medical staff. That is probably what started it, now that I think about it.

ET:  So that incident has nothing to do with one of your reported pregnancy scares?  A reliable source informed me you had been spotted trying to purchase emergency contraceptives on at least two occasions.

OI:  What?  No. The hospital thing had nothing to do with that—“

ET:  So you admit to the pregnancy scares?

OI:  No! It was just a precaution!

ET:  So you never tried to entrap Murcielago with a real or imagined pregnancy?

OI:  No. I would never do such a thing and I don’t appreciate the insinuation.  Besides I have too much going in my life for a baby right now.

(Author’s note: due to her state of agitation, I decided to stop this line of questioning. However, these responses, together with the responses below, lead this writer to believe that perhaps their separation had something to do with her unwillingness to bear him a child at this time.) 

ET:  I see.  Moving on, Pauletto’s swimsuit line seems to be creating quite a buzz.  What do you think of his collection?

OI:  I think it’s fabulous.  The military theme runs throughout the collection, unifying the look across seasons, even for swimwear.  Let me show you.

(Author’s note:  At this point, Inoue stood and showed me the back of the bikini bottom, which had golden stars embroidered  on it.)

ET: I see, it’s all very trendsetting, isn’t it.  I must say your body is very suited to modeling swimwear.  How do you keep in shape?

OI:  Well I try to eat right, I exercise.  I used to do more elliptical but a good friend recommended me to try doing stairs. It’s been working, for sure.  I thought my legs would bulk up too much but they’re just stronger.  

ET:  You look fantastic, But I noticed you have a tattoo on your hip.

OI:  Yes.

ET:  Care to explain the significance?

OI:  It’s the number 4.

ET:  I have an image on my phone from Markus’ failed fragrance campaign that shows C. Murcielago with a nearly identical, albeit much larger, tattoo on his chest.  Are you insinuating that the resemblance is coincidental?

OI:  No, not at all.  I got the tattoo to remind me of him.

ET:  I see, so you got it during a period of separation?

OI: Yes.

ET:  And you are separated now, correct?

OI:  Yes.

ET:  So why the number 4? Murcielago’s artwork is often gruesome and macabre.  Is it because the word 4 is a homonym for the word death in Japanese?

OI:  (laughs)  No, it’s nothing like that.  

ET:  Well what is the significance then?

OI:  You’ll have to ask him.  It’s not my secret to share.

ET:  So it  _ is  _ a secret though?  What other secrets is the mysterious Murcielago hiding?  What about his other tattoos?  

OI: Again, not my secret to share.  Although like most people with tattoos they all have some kind of personal meaning.  They’re not just for decoration. People get the wrong idea about him because of his art and look.  He’s not the way he is for shock factor. He is actually very genuine when you get to know him.

ET:  What about the one in the middle of his chest, the one that says ESPADA?

OI:  It means sword.

ET:  Why have a tattoo that means sword?

OI:  It’s not my place to say, like I said.

ET:  is it a reference to a sport? To murder? Or is it just another dark affectation to look edgier?

OI:  No. None of his ink is to look cool or edgy. He did use to practice sword fighting and he was very skilled at it. It was a hobby I think. It was before we were together. Most of his tattoos were done before we got together.

ET:  Is it safe to assume that the word Cifer is Murcielago's first name?

OI:  Yes. I would say ask him yourself but lately, he has told a few people. 

ET:  I see.  Do you two still talk?

OI:  Sadly, no.

ET:  Too bad, why’s that?

OI:  We broke up.  It wasn’t a mutual decision.  He offered to be friends but it’s just too hard for me.

ET:  You loved him that much?

OI:  (nods)

ET:  So what caused the breakup? Another woman?  Murcielago is well-known for being a womanizer.

OI:  No! No, he was loyal to me.  He just didn’t want me… I was inadvertently…  He felt he was changing himself for me too much.  He wanted to step back and reprioritize his career.

ET:   I see.  And it has nothing to do with your relationship with your roommate and fellow designer Uryu Ishida?  Nothing to do with Pauletto’s campaign? You really had nothing to do with the breakup?

OI:  No! Of course not.  I mean, okay, I guess both parties have something to do with a breakup but nothing specific I did… I don’t know.  I did sometimes disregard his wishes. I thought what I was doing was for the best but apparently, it doesn’t matter.

ET:  And what do you have to say about the pictures that surfaced this week of Murcielago leaving the nightclub, Aquamarine, and entering a love hotel with a woman who looks suspiciously like you?  

OI:  We are broken up.  He’s free to do as he likes.  

ET:  And that’s it?  It has no effect on you at all?

OI:  Of course it does. It was devastating. Nobody wants to see the one they love with somebody else.

ET:  I imagine it’s worse when that person is someone who looks almost exactly like you. Is it safe to say he has a type?  Short women with long red hair, similar to the figure in his most famous piece, The Woman and the Moon? It seems like he has always preferred women who fit this description, this last woman’s weight notwithstanding.

OI:  I wouldn’t know.

ET:  No? What do you think it was about you that made you so special?  Some people say that you  _ are _ the woman in that painting.  That you inspired Midori no Ai.  That a majority of his tattoos are dedicated to you.  You must admit, it seems unlikely to be a coincidence that he has a tattoo with the word princess, which is part of your name, and the Roman numerals for your birthdate and month, among other things.  Are you his muse, Inoue-san?

OI: I can’t say I am his muse, but I know I have inspired some of his art and tattoos.

ET:  But you just said you met him at a gallery a year ago.  You said he had most tattoos before he met you. He has been displaying the woman and the moon for over 4 years.  How can that be? You seem to be hiding something in this inconsistent timeline

OI:  We knew of each other before we met. 

ET: Do you think Murcielago is obsessed with you?  

OI:  No. Maybe he was a bit fixated at one point but he is over it by now.  

ET:  It seems like Murcielago just came into existence, but there are rumors that he was a known drug user before his rise to fame. Is he still involved with drugs? Does he have an addiction?

OI:  Absolutely not.  I have heard the rumors.  I have never had any indication that he uses any illicit substances.  I lived with him for months. He would not have been able to hide anything like that.   We rarely even left the house.

ET:  You were able to keep him that satisfied?  Would you call yourself sexually experienced?

OI:  No, what kind of a question is that?  He was my first boyfriend!

ET:  I find that hard to believe.  Look at yourself, you ooze sexuality.  

OI:  It’s the truth.  I never dated anyone before him.

ET:  Very well. What was your relationship like?

OI:  It was wonderful until it wasn’t.  He was funny and cute. He was attentive and —“

ET: Is he a good lover?

OI: (nodded)

ET:  I see. Passionate. Intense. Talented.  These are words that come to mind when one thinks of Murcielago, yet you call him cute and funny?   I’m going to have to demand evidence.

OI:  He is. He made me smile and laugh a lot.

ET:  Were you able to make him smile?

At this point, Ms. Inoue took her phone out and briefly showed me an intimate -ooking picture of Murcielago with a kind, carefree smile. He looked like a man in love.   Ms. Inoue was also beginning to slur her words and become combative at this point, so I decided to conclude the interview.  I was able to draw many conclusions and conjectures from my time with Ms. Inoue.   It was my overall impression that Ms. Inoue is nothing more than an opportunistic social climber, using her connections to more influential people to rise to higher levels of significance, despite having below average talents and just enough good looks to get by.  Her most prominent assets are her enviable curves, which are unfortunately connected to a short body. It is clear to this writer that someone like Inoue is likely to use her sexuality to her advantage. While observing her work, I saw her smile and jokingly flirt with her director and photographer, and it is not a very long leap for that kind of behavior to spill over into more unprofessional venues.  

Although it’s likely that C.  Murcielago was the one to approach her, it’s this writer’s opinion that the model made herself an object of his obsession willingly and knowingly.

As for her denials of trying to entrap the artist with a real or imagined pregnancy, based on our interactions today it would not surprise me if Ms. Inoue had at one point concocted such a scheme.  She is inconsistent and her answers she avoids questions that cast her in a bad light. Is my firm belief that she is a master manipulator. I pity her next victim.

What does all this have to do with the mysterious artist left in her wake?  Overall, his ex-lover paints a picture of a lovesick but otherwise balanced individual.  However this vision does not match past substantiated information. I can only conclude that she’s lying.

Through my exhaustive investigation I put together a picture of the tortured artist as a struggling drug addict who finally found redemption by painting his nightmares and demons out of his head and onto a canvas.  It stands to reason, then, that Ms. Inoue is also a figure from his nightmares. A bewitching woman who captured and tortured his heart until his lucky escape from their relationship.

Much remains a mystery about the beleaguered artist and I, for one, will be watching what happens for him next

 

“That ho,” Orihime said to herself, somewhat stunned, as she forwarded to email to Ulquiorra.

 

***

 

After he left Orihime’s apartment he went to the nearest bookstore and looked around for the magazine that Hirano mentioned while on the phone. He was currently waiting in line at a coffee shop, reading the article, his glare and frown becoming more intense with every word. This was total bullshit.

 

His phone chimed in his pocket, so it dug it out of his pocket. It was Orihime and she sent him the article. Ulquiorra shook his head and texted her back a picture of his right hand holding the magazine.

 

\-  _ Really? You got drunk and told this woman all about me? It paints you in a bad light Orihime. :( _

 

Orihime read his text and sat on the couch, cradling her forehead.  What was she supposed to say? She sighed, realizing there was no point in dressing up the truth.

 

 

  * __I’m sorry.  I was heartbroken.  It’s no excuse though.  I didn’t say anything bad about you, but I think this Emi has it out for me.  She acted like she was a confidante and I was lonely. I’m such an idiot.__



 

 

He sighed and left the shop without ordering anything. This was a clusterfuck. Why did people want to interfere with his life? What business was it of theirs to butt their noses in his business? Ulquiorra called Orihime.

 

When she picked up, he said, “I realize that you said nothing bad about me but to me, it sounds like you were still in love with me. I know circumstances have changed and we both know how the other truly feels but…”

 

“But?”

 

“This is going to be bad for you,” he added. Ulquiorra huffed. “Hirano called me this morning; she’s my public relations person and I hired her after the modeling campaign with Markus. She called me this morning and screamed at me. She’s not too happy that I proposed to you.”

 

She was silent for several seconds.  “Well, what do you want to do? What does she want you to do?  I mean, we don’t have to tell anyone…”

 

“I’ve no clue,” Ulquiorra replied. “H just told me to get a copy of this and she had to clean up my mess again. Apparently when it rains, it pours, though, because a known art critic wrote an article about me. He tore me apart because I don’t have a show. The pictures, this articles; all I wanted is to lead a normal life.”

 

Orihime sighed.  “When is your show again?” she was flustered and couldn’t remember.

 

He pulled the phone away from his face and opened the calendar app. In big bold letters it told him when the doomed art show was to open. “Friday,” he answered. 

 

“It’s not a lot of time, but I have an idea.” 

 

“What is it? I want to hear it before I agree. I don’t need Hirano coming after me with a knife. This art guy doesn’t like me. He’s probably caught onto the fact that my show was canceled and the rescheduled to a different date. I told the gallery owner I had nothing for this show.”

 

“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.  You have a camera. Photograph me. Photograph us.  Graffiti it up. Make it tortured and edgy. Add it to your show.  I don’t know; I’m not an artist, but I know six days is not long enough to paint a whole show’s worth of canvases.  But… maybe you can discredit the art critic by having a completely new kind of work at the show? We can make Emi Takahashi look like a liar if we’re in photos together. It can only help, right?”

 

He was going to argue. Ulquiorra’s mouth opened and then closed to do so, but her idea was brilliant. There was a downside to it though. “It’s Saturday morning. My show opens Friday evening. That’s an insane amount of work to put both of us through to prove someone wrong. It might also strengthen that bitch’s article.”

 

She wasn’t happy about potentially trashing her own image, but his livelihood was on the line. She took a deep breath.  “Don’t worry about my image. There’s no such thing as bad publicity, right? Ask Hirano. As for the work -- I have nothing better to do from now until the time I have to leave Thursday morning.  We can use your place or a studio at school. We protect each other, right?”

 

“Right. I’m not happy about this though. Why protect my image when I’m a known fuckboy? The article said I was a womanizer,” Ulquiorra said.

 

She chuckled.  “You can’t undo the past, but you get to direct your future.  Who cares what anyone else thinks about your image, as long as they respect your work.  That’s what I’m focused on.”

 

Dammit, she was right... Again. Ulquiorra thought about his options. The show could go on and it would flop because all he had was the one painting. His name would be dragged through the mud. He would most likely have to beg for places to give him a chance at art shows. Or, he could totally flip the script and give the gallery an amazing show. He knew that he had nothing except for one painting. He could do abstracts and paint splatters, which were not a trademark of Murcielago. “Okay, uh, I’m going to call Hirano. Get to my place, I don’t want to use the college’s studio. I know my own computer better and it would be distracting having to navigate a different one.”

 

He paused for a moment, trying to think. “Edgy, teased hair and heavy eye makeup. Black. Everything else can be left to you. Bring some of your collection with you. Do you need me to call you a cab?”

 

“I got it.  Want me to ask Quin to assist?”

 

Not that he wanted his time with Orihime intruded on by her roommate but this was a limited opportunity. “If he’s available, bring him along. I’m--We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

 

“I will be there in one hour.”  She hung up.

 

***

 

Hirano thought he was insane but if they could pull it off, she’d stop bitching at him for a week. UIquiorra even promised to produce  _ The Woman and The Moon _ for a limited showing. This would be the second time he would pull it out of storage.

 

When he got to his apartment, he unlocked the door and threw the magazine onto the counter. He was going to fix this. He’d fucked it up and he’d been fucking up since this started. It was a snowball of incidents and drama that rapidly got bigger as time went on.

 

Leaving his half finished canvases up on the easels, Ulquiorra set up his camera on the tripod and connected it to his computer. Hopefully, Orihime would have help with her. He sent her a text that asked for her to grab coffee because he was going to need it.

 

Ishida showed up first, his arms laden with garment bags and make-up kits.  He also had a large backpack with collapsible studio light boxes he had swiped from the college’s photo studio, just for today.  He had been at school when he got the call from Orihime, so he grabbed the items from her collection along with the other items that were stored there and came over right away.   He had been hesitant to lend a hand, not quite on board with his roommate and her ex getting back together, but when he heard about the project, he was all in. Personal shit took a backseat to creativity for Quin. 

 

“So, I hear it’s going to be a busy day,” he said after Ulquiorra opened the door.

 

“Yeah, uh, Orihime tell you what was going on? Have you seen the interview she did?” Ulquiorra said, moving away from the door and gesturing for the man to come inside the apartment.

 

“Yeah, I was the one who called that Takahashi bitch had made her send the article to her.  I swear… By the way, twelve flights of stairs? Really? Someone like you can’t afford something a little bit more convenient?  You’re lucky I’m not dead,” he said, carefully laying the garment bags over the arm of Ulquiorra’s chair and then setting up the kits on a side table.

 

Ulquiorra chuckled. Everyone bitched about the stairs. “You would have never survived in Los Noches,” he stated. “I could but I like my loft. If Orihime decides she wants to go somewhere else, we will.”

 

Uryu raised a brow at him.  “What are you saying? You’re moving in together?  Weren’t you just broken up yesterday?”

 

Oh, she hadn’t told him. Well, it wasn’t his news to hand out, so Ulquiorra shrugged. “I, uh,” he floundered for words.

 

There was a tapping at the door.  

 

“That’ll be her. You can ask her what’s going on,” Ulquiorra said, turning to the door and opening it.

 

Orihime stood on the other side of the door, panting and sweating. “I made it,” she said.  Her hair was a crazy mess. She had done the teasing at home but expected Quin to do the final styling.  Her eyes were heavily lined and her lips were glossed. She had more garment bags with her. “Are you guys all set up already?”

 

The green-eyed man nodded. “So you said take photos of us and alter them. My idea is to somewhat recreate  _ us _ from six years ago,” Ulquiorra said, glancing over her. She was still beautiful and lovely to him. 

 

Uryu scoffed.  “Well at least I kinda know how that looked,” he said, shaking his head.  He knew it was a good idea professionally, but personally, he thought it blew.

 

“Ok, well, do you want to see the clothes?  I did work on some menswear, too,” Orihime suggested as she stood in front of Quin, who held a comb and a bottle of hairspray expectantly.

 

Ulquiorra nodded and started up the photo program. He’d lifted it off Markus and used the man’s serial number. It was wrong but the former hollow didn’t have much sense of right or wrong. “Orihime, did you want to keep your ring on?” he asked.

 

“It’s up to you,” she said, blushing.

 

“What ring?” Quin asked suspiciously, then looked down at her finger.  “Oh you have got to be kidding,” he complained loudly.  

 

“What?” Ulquiorra snapped. He rolled his eyes and glared at the Quincy. “Do you have a problem?”

 

“It’s your lives.  Do what you want,” he muttered, busying himself with Orihime’s hair.  After a moment he paused, then grinned wickedly and laughed. “Kurosaki is going to go ballistic,” he said, as if it was the most delicious idea he’d ever imagined.

 

Ulquiorra’s head turned towards the other male. “No, you cannot say anything to anyone about this. It’s Orihime’s and my business and when we’re ready, we will announce our intentions.”

 

Quin tsked and huffed.  “Fine. But _ please _ tell me when that will be because I want to be there for his reaction.”

 

Orihime interrupted before Ulquiorra had a chance to respond.  “In that case I ought to take it off, don’t you think? Is there somewhere safe to put it here?”

 

His mouth set in a thin line. Ulquiorra held his hand out to her. “There’s that small box in my bedroom on the dresser. I have to go up there anyway to get my stuff and change.”

 

She took the ring off and kissed his cheek as she passed it to him, then returned to Quin.  “Which of these should I wear? Or do you want to do any nudes?”

 

Was she insane? Ulquiorra shook his head. “No,” he answered before Ishida could speak. “No nudes. No one--” he stopped himself because that jealousy monster was raising its head. “Maybe partials? From the waist up?”

 

She smiled, “Whatever you want.  You can always manipulate the images or paint over what you don’t want to share,” she suggested.  “And don’t worry about Quin, he’s a professional.”

 

“And gay!” the Quincy chipped in, not looking up from his task or sounding particularly moved by the conversation.

 

“Like I give a damn about him. It’s the rest of society that I don’t want seeing you but you’re right, as usual.” Ulquiorra gave her a smile before he climbed the ladder to his bedroom. He walked over to the box and opened it to retrieve the items he needed and deposit the ring inside. He used the mirror to line his eyes with the pencil eyeliner. He used some other liquid eyeliner to put teal streaks down his face. The last thing he did was used the black matte lipstick to color in his upper lip. 

 

Ulquiorra was good at this kind of makeup because he did it all the time to himself. It was his signature look when making appearances at art shows. He dug around in his bottom dresser drawer for the white trousers he kept there and the black scarf. He tilted his head, wondering if he should get the white jacket he had purchased and put that on. The Quincy seemed perturbed enough. He did not want to agitate him. When he finished changing and perfecting the makeup, Ulquiorra went back down the ladder.

 

Uryu looked up at him.  “Do you have a jacket to go with that?  Also, you need a wig,” he said, turning to his kits.

 

He really was all business.

 

“I didn’t want to give you nightmares but yes and I don’t want to wear a wig, This is supposed to be edgy, grungy, and dark. I don’t want to look like some screamo bitch and let’s face it, that’s what I looked like,” Ulquiorra muttered before he went back up the ladder and retrieved the jacket from his closet.

 

Orihime had had her back to him the first time he came down the ladder, but Uryu had turned her around.  She looked up at him and gasped. “That is, uh…” her chin to her ears started to flush with color, and she took a deep breath through her nose before finishing, “Uncanny.”

 

He smirked at her. “The only difference this time is my heart beats and I’m not as cold-blooded,” Ulquiorra walked over to her and tipped her chin up. “Do you like it?”

 

She made a kind of unintelligent vocalization, a mix between a “huh” and a “hmm”.

 

“Oh for god’s sake.  You two can eyefuck each other later.  Can we focus? Time is money.” Quin griped.

 

Orihime cleared her throat and bit on her lips.

 

Ulquiorra shifted his gaze over to the Quincy, wanting to sneer. “You are  _ such _ a killjoy. Are we ready?”

 

It was a grueling process and Quin was a brutal director. Ulquiorra knew the man was finicky about things but he vowed never to work with him again. It was constantly barrage of commands and lighting changes. Orihime had to change her own outfit several times, while he just removed the jacket or wrapped the scarf around his neck. They even got a couple of nude shots where Orihime’s body was visible. Ishida had made sure that they stood several feet apart from each other. 

 

“You can hump each other after I’m gone,” was all that was said.

 

At about one in the morning, Ishida left.  They had photographed everything they thought they needed.  Orihime had one more idea, but waited until after her roommate left to propose it.

 

“Now, I have one more idea, but I want you to promise to listen before you say no, okay?”

 

Ulquiorra was sipping on more coffee when Orihime spoke to him. He sat at his computer, scrolling through the shots the other guy had taken. “What is it?” he asked, turning towards her. “Why would I have to promise to listen?”

 

“Because I think it will be perfect, but I think you might object.  Promise to hear me out?”

 

He nodded. “I promise to listen to this idea of yours.”

 

“Ok.  I think we should make a sex tape.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments and kudos!
> 
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